
Hotter Than Hades
That summer when I was seven was hotter than Hades The earth dry and cracked like a moon crater I remember Grandma sitting on her porch Snipping the green beans into her apron Wiping the sweat from her eyes with the damp cloth permanently wrapped around her neck We spent most days down in the swimming hole Swinging from the tree and jumping in the water or floating in tire tubes just to stay cool When the sun went down we'd catch fireflies in jars and watch the June bugs spinning on their backs by the kitchen door The days passed slower than molasses Daddy used to say it was hotter than a stolen tamale I remember the swarm of grasshoppers that came They were bigger than Texas. Billy said they were locusts They ate momma’s sunflowers, making her madder than a hornet There were so many in the air they would land on your legs while you were riding your bike Grown-ups were bad-tempered and us kids stayed well away It seemed as if it was never going to rain Until that day when big fat drops spotted the pavement Like the polka dots on my Sunday best dress It was a Saturday Finally, the heavens opened and the rain came down in buckets We danced in the street until we were soaked to the skin and Grandma chased us in with her broom The next day we all went to church to give thanks Copyright © 2021 Christine Bolton - Poetry for Healing All Rights Reserved Grace is hosting D'Verse Poets tonight and she has prompted us to write a poem incorporating setting (specific or descriptive) in our blog. Word Prompt Swim - FOWC Photo by Tengyart on Unsplash
Whew, hot summer heat and I can feel the humidity and sweat dripping, until the rain finally came down. How terrifying it must have been to see that swarm of locusts. I like enjoyed this poem – like a page from your diary. Thanks for joining in.
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Thanks Grace. I’m happy you enjoyed it ☺️
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This makes me a little jealous for an American summer.. I would just love to see fireflies.. I don’t think we get them in Australia.. this really took me there… ❤
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Thank you. Yes fireflies are a fun thing to see. All kids like trying to catch them ☺️
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Really enjoyed this! The heat must have been unbearable! But when the rain came, how liberating!
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Thanks Carol. It certainly can be in those extreme situations ☺️😅
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Wonderful descriptions, Christine, building up the tension until the polka-dotted drops of rain came. I think you could build a book around this place, it’s magical.
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Thanks Lisa. It is mostly fiction although there are some personal things I could draw from. The Texas heat and drought one year and the locusts! I always enjoy trying to paint a picture. ☺️
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🙂
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So descriptive— loved reading this so I read it twice!
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What a lovely compliment Jane. Thank you Jane ☺️
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This is a wonderful poem Christine! I love the great images of the cracked ground, the grasshoppers, and the big raindrops! I can see your Grandma snapping beans… so good!
dwight
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Thanks Dwight. I’m so happy the imagery worked ☺️ I really enjoyed this prompt.
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You are welcome!
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Excellent write and your use of idioms was anything but cliche. I remember catching fireflies and watching June bugs spin too!
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Thanks so much Lynn. I’m so happy you could relate ☺️
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Your poem is exquisite! I felt every word.
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Oh Helen that makes me so happy! Thank you for the lovely compliment ☺️
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So well written Christine. It just comes alive in my imagination
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Thanks Sadje. That was a lovely thing to say ☺️
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You’re welcome my friend
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🥰
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A fine set of observations. You took me there and that’s a rare gift.
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Thank you Doug. I’m so happy you liked it ☺️
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You took me back to another time and place in your poem, Christine. I could feel the heat and picture the ‘earth dry and cracked like a moon crater’, even while glancing out of the window at our snow-covered garden. I love the swimming hole and the fireflies in jars, and that wonderful phrase ‘The days passed slower than molasses’, and felt the relief when ‘big fat drops spotted the pavement / Like the polka dots on my Sunday best dress’.
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Thanks Kim. I drew from a poem I wrote a while ago and reworked it into narrative poetry. I’m so happy it worked. I appreciate your lovely feedback ☺️
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I am way too high — come on over and fly with me! I will be back earthbound tomorrow to tread.,!
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Thank you Rob. Will do! ☺️
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I have returned as threatened— Poetry is the statement of power that sets the soul free, to be, exactly who you are — and in being just that, to introduce your truth to the world!..
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YES! Did I just drink your Kool-Aid? 😀
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This is such beautiful, evocative writing:
‘The days passed slower than molasses’ – this made my think of Scout’s voice in To Kill a Mockingbird. I love it!
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Thanks Ingrid. The southern US is full of colorful descriptive language and it is something I enjoy playing with. ☺️
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Oh, yeah; you nailed this one. We might have been neighbors, given your description. The Grown-ups always made us stay outside ‘until the streetlights come on.” Great stuff.
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Thanks Ron. I loved this prompt as it allowed me to do something different. ☺️. I grew up in London and we were allowed to stay out until dark too 👍
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Evocative of time and place and memories so tangible they live on in the present. You took us right there with you into the rain, dancing, giving thanks!
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Thanks you so much Dora. I appreciate it ☺️
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Your descriptors of the oppressive heat and subsequent great relief are excellent, and those senses come through clearly.
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Thanks so much Ken ☺️
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I have never experienced any heat like this… it seemed like a happy memory, but I can understand the burden it must have been for the grown-ups… happy for the rain in the end.
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Yes, I can’t imagine living through that heat as an adult and not being irritable.
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