Remember in those long-gone winter days
When, wrapped in jumpers by the fireside,
We yearned for sunshine, blue sky and heat-haze
And deck chair semi-nude days sat outside?
Oh how we wished that it was baking hot
And thought of how much better we would feel
Eating salad in some picnic spot
Watching arms go brown and start to peel.
Well, now it's here, the heatwave of our dreams,
Worn out, lethargic, we sit in the shade -
This isn't heaven after all, it seems
As we, like memories we harboured, fade.
It's either blooming cold or blooming hot
And what we want is never what we've got!