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God Made These Texas Summers
The Summer’s come again
To the vast Texas plain,
Where touching any metal
Can instantly cause pain.
The horny toads are resting
In shadows of the rocks,
And cowboys now are wearing
Sweat absorbent socks.
Meantime down in Houston,
Girls’ hair has turned to fur,
Humidity misshaping
Their salon coiffure.
Hens lay hard boiled eggs,
Corn’s popping in the field,
Cows are giving cheese;
Burned bugs dot my windshield.
God made these Texas summers,
And then he laughed a spell:
“I’ll make them all believers
In the heat of hell.”
.
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LTC Roy E. Peterson, US Army Military Intelligence and Russian Foreign Area Officer (Retired) has published more than 5,000 poems in 78 of his 101 books. He has been an Army Attaché in Moscow, Commander of INF Portal Monitoring in Votkinsk, first US Foreign Commercial Officer in Vladivostok, Russia and Regional Manager in the Russian Far East for IBM. He holds a BA, Hardin-Simmons University (Political Science); MA, University of Arizona (Political Science); MA, University of Southern California (Int. Relations) and MBA University of Phoenix. He taught at the University of Arizona, Western New Mexico University, University of Maryland, Travel University and the University of Phoenix.
Very well done as usual. Air conditioning makes it almost livable here, even this summer, but it may have foiled God’s plan to give us a snapshot of hell on earth.
I appreciate the comments and am usually in something or place air conditioned, as well.
A fun one, Roy! Especially the local agriculture in stanza four. I do recognize what happens to long hair in hot humidity, and would have said you ought to call it frizz, but the idea of wearing fur in summer is worth a belly laugh in itself.
Thank you so much, Margaret! Wonderful perception of fur in the summer.
Only 90 today, perhaps the coldest day in six weeks. We may as well laugh and be thankful we are alive to share the experience. Thank you, Roy.
AND, I want that cow that gives cheese.
The likely would be cream cheese. LOL. Thank you, Phil.
Roy, your regional poems depicting west Texas not only bring me joy but a palpable sense of being there. This one is both observant and fun noting everything from the burned bugs dotting the windshield to the hilariously exaggerated “hens lay hard boiled eggs.” Thank you for the smile — and the sweaty reminder that God is always in charge.
Thank you for sharing those “hot” comments and for both enjoying and imparting the humor!
Very fun and enjoyable, Roy. I had to live in Texas for two years, and couldn’t wait to move north.
Texas misses you, Cynthia. I should have visited my relatives in South Dakota this summer. Thank you for the kind comments.
Some really humorous lines making for a very funny poem.
Those heat domes can be very inspiring.
Thanks for the read.
This heat dome has been amazing. I read somewhere that one lady baked a loaf of bread in her mailbox! Glad you enjoyed it.
Oh, you have nothing but praises for Roy when he writes about Texas summer, but when Susan writes about the exact same subject, you have to bring up alleged “climate change?”
https://staging.classicalpoets.org/2023/08/09/poems-on-texass-hot-summer-of-2023-by-susan-jarvis-bryant/
And there I was thinking the Borg had assimilated you, Joshua.
Heat domes, though not a direct product of climate change, are thought to be more intense and longer-lasting than before due to higher initial air temperatures – caused by the well-documented phenomenon of global warming.
Anyhow, don’t the Borg prefer higher temperatures. They did last time I saw First Contact.
I don’t understand your reference to the Borg. If anything, it is the left that is a Borg-like collective, tirelessly laboring to assimilate the whole world.
But that’s not what I asked you, nor is anything having to do with “global warming.” My point was that Roy and Susan both wrote poems about the exact same topic, and you pushed your leftist agenda on Susan but not Roy. Is it because she’s a woman?
That’s pretty pathetic, Joshua, playing the misogyny card – again – just like you did with Connor whenever you had no ranting argument.
Yes, I believe these hotter temperatures are part of an overall pattern of an upward trend. The science says so, the same science that took us out of the Dark Ages. It’s not some Borg-like conspiracy of assimilation from a TV show as you seem to think.
As for why I didn’t mention global warming or climate change by name this time, well, it only attracts verbal abuse from multiple sides, and I can do without that quite frankly.
Oh, just like you play the “that’s pathetic” card whenever you have no argument?
I’ll tell you why I don’t argue about global warming: 1. It’s a waste of words to argue with a leftist about these things, and 2. Others here, such as Mike Bryant, are far better educated on the subject than I am.
If you don’t tell me why you always attack Susan’s poems when I’m far more controversial and you don’t attack my poems, or when you don’t attack others for the exact same subjects, then what you do speaks so loudly I can’t hear anything you say. I could be wrong; for example, maybe you don’t like other British people, or maybe you resent that she’s emigrated to Texas, or maybe it’s something else. But when you take the opportunity to attack my character (as if that weren’t the funniest thing in the world coming from any leftist), it doesn’t convince me that I’m wrong about that. I know why you hate me (because I don’t put up with your crap), but what did Susan ever do to you?
By the way, none of us like Conor, as you may have seen in the response to my poem about him, so comparing yourself to him isn’t the best idea (especially since you already remind us of him quite a bit), and neither is angering me or any of my friends here. If you go back to those threads, you’ll see that I had plenty of arguments against what he said in his attacks.
It is you who have no ranting argument. I don’t give a damn about the issue of global warming, it’s your behavior that gets on my nerves. It’s not just me; I know others (not naming names) are starting to lose patience with you but just won’t say it.
Perhaps the only solace is that it’s a dry heat?
In West Texas, it is, but in Central, North, and East Texas, it’s a sauna!
Love it! I’m living in Texas too, and I can relate. People from other states are shocked when they hear that it gets over 100° every day here, and that someone’s dropped grocery bag showed me that you really can fry an egg on the sidewalk here.
That used to happen here in Noo Yawk City, where TV news stations sometimes sent out reporters and camera crews in the summer months to film someone frying an egg on the sidewalk. It worked even better on the hood of a parked car sitting in the sun, especially if the car was painted a dark color.
These hot summer months are not unusual, no matter what the Climate-Change freaks say. I recall summer days in the 1950s and 60s when the heat was so stifling you could choke to death without relief.
We were also plagued with mosquitoes in those days, until the New Jersey swamps were drained and filled. Thank God this happened before the environmentalist creeps came along, screaming about “our precious wetlands.”
That’s a fun summer poem, I like it, thank you. I recently went into a thrift store to get a bandanna to put over my hair so it wouldn’t turn to fur and the only one they had was a red, white and blue STATE of TEXAS bandanna. I bought it and when I put it on I realized that it’s bigger than all my other bandannas because it’s not only Texas themed, it’s Texas sized too.
Thank you for sharing that, Yael, and for the kind comments. I could add something like I tried on a Texas Stetson hat, and it fell on my shoulders!
Phew, Roy, your poem reminds me… I’m ready for autumn.
LOL. Me too!
Fun poem, Roy. But I can’t get the picture out of my mind of you in your Stetson!
Haha! Love the comment.
Roy, I’m now experiencing my 13th summer in Texas and I’m a firm believer in the “heat of hell” and what that heat does to a woman’s hair is criminal! You have captured with a knowing grin the nature of the sweaty season in the Lone Star State… which may well last for lot longer than the calendar claims. Huge fun and oh so true.
Bless you, Susan, for your endurance capabilities, for being in Texas, and for the wonderful thoughts and comments!
Both you and God have a sense of humor. I prefer the heat to the wintry north. These two lines, “Hens lay hard boiled eggs/Corn’s popping in the field” say it all. You have eclipsed, by far, Emily Dickenson’s output of almost 1,800 poems.
Those are special comments, Geoffrey. I did not know the number of poems Emily Dickenson wrote. Thank you.
Is it the heat as Texas seems to have many fine poets!
Bless you, Mia! I have been surprised by the number of my Texan colleagues who write such wonderful poetry. I am honored you placed me among them.