Leaves falling from dying trees,
That normally survive the hot dry,
Animals bogged in fast drying dams,
Dying right where they now lie,
Young stock orphaned and weak,
Hand raised otherwise they’d die.
Once lush grass plains, reduced to dirt,
Everything in sight covered in thick dust,
Farmers struggling to continue on,
Minds drifting to better times with lust,
Reality brings another scarce withered crop,
They soldier on, because they know they must.
Available water sources drying before their eyes,
Nature dealing another ghastly knock,
De-stocking, selling up, re-writing survival plans,
Become a dark reality not to mock,
As affordable grain and other fodder supplies,
Get harder to find for their stock.
Others rally to lend a hand,
Helping to get them through,
Every little assistance relieves some pain,
Be it Financial, food, fodder or water too,
However there is only so much,
Those off the land can do.
Exhaustion claims the bodies of plenty,
Depression ravages minds across the land,
Some manage to escape the crushing hold,
Retreating to blissful places with sea and sand,
Whilst those left keep soldiering on,
Surviving though everything’s so bland.
Dark clouds signify some hope,
Perhaps a touch of much needed rain,
Mere thoughts of water and fresh life,
Ease minds filled so long with pain,
Eventually dams will refill and crops will grow,
Signalling parched land will be revived again.