Will it Rain? by Anne McCubben ©

The sky again is overcast; it’s threatening to rain.
The farmer gazes at the clouds; He has to burn his cane
And “ Will it rain or clear away? What will the weather do?”
‘Tis Sunday afternoon and dull; The farmer’s in a stew.
“Perhaps another break I’ll push and burn a little less.
Then if I’m caught by lots of rain, there won’t be such a mess!”
The time of year that should be wet was very, very dry
And harvest time’s supposed to have a cloudless, sunny sky,
But round here in the Burdekin, the harvest’s been delayed.
The crushing’s held up by the wet, and farmers are afraid
The mill won’t have capacity to crush the sugar crop
Because that rain, unseasonal, has caused the mill to stop.
The farmers try their very best to cut the soggy cane,
The haul-outs bog, the harvester has skidded In a drain.
The farmer’s thoughts turn back a bit, he ponders once again
On seasons, crops and harvesting, as happens now and then.
The farmer’s thoughts swing back again, he’s in the present now,
Decisions must be made and soon; a frown is on his brow.
“It’s overcast again,” he says, “I’ll have a smaller burn
And hope that soon again I’ll see the sunny days return.

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