A Wet Thursday Morning in Cornwall.
It’s Thursday
and it’s raining,
it needs no explaining
but the dogs must go out.
“Hey, Dad!” they shout.
“There’s a lot of it about,
and we don’t care
if the weatherman says it’s raining…!”
I couldn’t argue with that;
and, so, here we are
an hour later
wetter than an otter
soggy as a…
well, pretty wet.
Towelled down and frisky
(we don’t want to be risky)
and showered and dry
(that is my
warm up)
we are inside and warm…
still it does rain
and later
we get to do it all
again.
It’s raining here too and windy. It’s more of a torrential downpour, really. Haha. This OEM
Ugh!!! * this poem is so apt for today!
We are in the grip of Storm Callum. And we share a thought for Florida and all the places that are dealing with the forces of Nature.
Stay safe, trE.
G:)
We shall, thank you. We are getting remnants from Michael here. I’m always grateful for no direct hits, but always as for the areas most affected. It’s a crazy push and pull. Peace, Graeme.
Top of the 1 o’clock news and showing Michael now moving across South Carolina. Media allows us instantaneous knowledge of these things that in the past would have been virtually unexpected. The ability to prepare must help many. G:)