Water falls
from the sky,
not all the time
but quite often,
don’t ask me why.
Water falls
from the sky,
not all the time
but quite often,
don’t ask me why.
Well the Sun is out,
but the heat is not,
it’s very cold,
not very hot,
must be winter
quite a lot today
That is the sky,
and that is why
my fingers are frozen;
well, being January
rather than July
is also possibly
a reason why.
Hail falls,
yet again;
landing upon the dissolving relatives
that fell not half an hour ago.
Saturday!
The weekend is here!
It’s.
raining.
.
Not that I’m complaining,
we need the rain,;
but why can’t it rain at night,
and be sunny in the day?
Who’s to say
that that wouldn’t work?
Whomsoever built the weather system,
didn’t set it up right.
I look out of the widow
and it sure is a sore sight:
It’s yet another Thursday;
well, as days go –
and they do –
it’s the only Thursday that matters
at this very moment.
I mean, when tomorrow (Friday)
arrives,
today (Thursday)
will be condemned to the past – history –
and we will all have moved on.
.
Anyway, it’s this Thursday,
and that means…
well, it means different things
to different people,
probably.
.
Happy wet Thursday;
.
hope it stretches itself to meet all your expectations –
if you have any –
expectations, that is –
about ‘this’ ‘current’ Thursday.
… and then the rain stopped,
although momentarily,
and we sighed a sigh.
Monday:
The rain it fell
and well it did,
the worms that hid
deep in the ground
surfaced to see the Sun,
and, as one, became targets
for the blackbird.
The worms were destined
to be winter fare;
which is not fair,
but Nature is like that.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #birds, #blackbird, #Monday, #poetry. #poem, nature, Rain, weather
Saturday:
Below, in the midst of the snow,
seeking a worm for a snack,
a blackbird pecked around,
the ground was frozen,
the worms had sought deep refuge,
and the blackbird’s efforts
were to no avail,
but keep on it must.
.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #birds, #FrozenGround, #poetry. #poem, #Saturday, #Snow, #Worms, nature, weather
Sunday arrived,
and so did the rain,
it washed away the snow,
the ice, the slush,
and made things clean again.
But, damp,
oh so very damp indeed;
it rained so much more
than was necessary,
needed to do the job,
and if it keeps on raining,
we’ll go outside and bob
around the garden,
or sit on rafts and float;
I think I might just spend today
in fashioning a boat.