Looking out windows,
seeing the pourtentous sky
relieving itself.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #poetry. #poem, #WetWeather, Cornwall, Kernow, Rain, weather
From up above us
the drops fall upon our heads
and we reign supreme.
Just a-walking in the rain.
What are we doing in the rain,
getting wet, once again?
When we should all be dry indoors,
and dreaming of those Cornish shores.
I can see the sun shining,
I feel the raindrops;
so where is my rainbow?
Where?
I look about,
doubt in my heart
that one will be there;
when there should be one there.
Where is my rainbow?
Where?
Or am I just imagining
that when two facts collide
a resulting phenomenon
should be to my side?
Where is my rainbow?
Where?
Oh, where?
For it isn’t there.
Pour a bucket of water over my head and have done with it!
Why do you have to keep adding insult to injury?
I only wanted a dry day for a change – and what happens?
Yup! Another rain cloud poised above me, the moment that I venture forth, disposes of its contents upon little, old me.
It was a Friday
in February,
and took place upon an island.
Sound familiar?
The wind was:
a, blowing,
b, blowing a lot
c, at such a level whereby an ‘Amber-coloured’ alert had been issued.
d, all of the above
e, none of the above
f, some of the above; but, in larger or smaller quantities
g, there is no ‘g’ option.
It also rained.
Wind and Rain
what a combination!
No Sun, no Rainbow or multiples thereof.
The wind id usually cold and forceful;
the rain wet and wetter still.
All in all, a typical day in February.
And, one of a long line of suchlike days just experienced
and to come.
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