I could sit at home and type in gloves
Cold is the weather no one loves
Hail sprinkles diamonds on the lawn
Fragile bluebells look forlorn.
Water gushes down the hill
The drains are blocked, the waters spill
A gurgling stream flows past the kerb
This April's weather is absurd!
Flashes of sun make people bold
But café terraces are cold
Spring fashions taunt us – we don't care
Umbrellas blossom everywhere!
Fickle weather is a curse
I look outside – the rainstorm's worse
Doughty clouds obscure my view
It's depressing – what's to do?
OK - we must out-ride the storm
As this “iffy” weather is the norm
I glare with anger at the sky
But my bright red raincoat keeps me dry!
(c) Poet in the woods 2016