OK, who believes it when I write
That my summer terrace turned quite white
After another raging storm,
Which pelted hail on every lawn?
What intensity and deafening noise!
Those caught up in it, lost their poise
As they rushed in any which way fast
To avoid these weapons of iced glass!
Not once, but twice in June comes hail
The insurance companies grow pale
A torrent of claims will soon flood in
Wild weather patterns aren’t their thing!
A day goes by – I step outside
More damaged plants – leaves scattered wide;
More sweeping up; I hoped for sun
But a cloudburst kept us on the run!
We’re hurtling fast into July
Vacation month – will it stay dry?
I prefer to hedge my bets these days
Within my sight my brolly stays!
(c) Poet in the woods 2014