Dry Summer

DRY SUMMER On Harcourt Hill the summer grass is parched and desiccated All dry and flaxen neath the beating sun, its message carried To teachers’ throats to give a thirst, a craving unabated For College now is designated: ‘campus dry’ and arid But when this season’s over and the sun’s becoming mellow And classrooms echo vacantly with words select and wise Then, temperance repealed, with soft tones as a solo cello Some sweet and blest libations will restore, revitalise.