Storm Warning

storm
The Gathering Storm by John Robinson

 

Storm Warning

The temp’rature is stalling,
And the air is tinged with tin,
The mercury is falling,
And the front is moving in.
The cumulus is clumping,
And the sun is shafting gold,
The Ninety-Nines are slumping,
And the mugginess turns cold.

The temp’rature is dropping,
And the singing birds are stopping,
And the ringing ears are popping,
And the air is tinged with tin.
The woodpecker is calling,
And weathercock is squalling,
And the mercury is falling,
And the front is moving in.

The chimneypots are whistling,
And the flies have stopped their buzz,
The static cling is bristling,
And the cats are balls of fuzz.
The thunderheads are stacking,
And the grey is turning black,
The sun is wholly lacking,
And the thunder starts to crack.

The temp’rature’s adjusting,
And the herald-winds are gusting,
And the anvil-tops are thrusting,
And the air is tinged with tin.
The heavy drops are splashing,
And the lightning-bolts are flashing,
And the mercury is crashing,
And the front is moving in.

 

 

Sashes & Splashes

window

 

Sashes & Splashes

I love to hear the raindrops from the dry-side of the window,
As they pitter-patter on the misty glass, kept well at bay –
The panes become my armour from the showers and the wind,
So I can watch the running rivulets, a quarter-inch away.

 

 

Gods’ Breath

wind god

 

Gods’ Breath

Cry out your name to the wind,
As it gathers and flies,
Let it carry your name on its wing
To the edge of the skies.
Cry out your name to the wind,
And the wind replies –
“I am Aneurin, I am Belinda,
The unseen and wise.
Now I am Cormac, blowing, blowing,
Davina rising, Ezra free –
Soon to be Fortune, waiting, growing –
Filling the sails at mill and sea.
I am the storm and the maelstrom twinned,
The harbinger-bringer, the hurricane eyes !”

So cry out your name to the wind,
And your name shall rise.

 

 

Season’s Fleetings

snowdrop christmas card

 

Season’s Fleetings

How can the Midwinter feast be here,
So far from the middle of Winter,
When Autumn’s leaves are barely down,
And frost has yet to hit the town ?
How can the shortest day be near
So far from the chill of Winter ?
We feast on pudding by the wedge
Before we’ve eaten up our veg.
But wait…the snowdrops soon appear
In what was once still Winter –
If Advent sees the last of Fall,
Then Burns Night sees the Springtime call.

 

 

Nicholmas Daisies

focus photography of purple daisy flowers
Photo by Beata Kamińska on Pexels.com

 

Nicholmas Daisies

They seem to be lasting for longer each year,
So long past September and into December –
For even in frost and in sleet, they appear –
Still shining in bloom on the thermal frontier.

And I have seen violets outlast their season,
And snowdrops and hellebores turning up early doors.
I wonder if climate change offers a reason ?,
For something is urging these flowers and trees on.

The branches are bare, but the apples still mellow –
We’ve bred them so hardy, it just makes them tardy.
Surprises of colour make strange bedding-fellows,
With the roses still red as the crocus bursts yellow.

 

 

A Year without a Summer

blur branches depth of field dry leaves
Photo by Markus Spiske temporausch.com on Pexels.com

 

A Year without a Summer

April was sulky this year,
And May was too shy,
And June was a truant who failed to appear,
And then came the tantrums of jealous July,
And August was but an imposter
Who left us quite sober,
And as for September, it seems we had lost her –
And soon we were greeting the gloom of October.

So where had our Summer gone, all Summer long ?
Hiding above the clouds, he was.
His rain was heavy, his wind was strong,
And as to why – well, just because…
But that is the way of the weather, we say,
He’s always been fickle round here –
When all four seasons are met in a day,
Yet no Summer met in a year.

 

Not a comment on this year’s actual weather, just a general mope when we get a bit of rain.

 

 

Brolly Dolly

umbrellas
Yellow Umbrella by babsmojo

 

Brolly Dolly

What is it with black umbrellas ?
Only make the weather darker !
When the skies are less than stellar,
Do not make them even starker !
Make our brollies blue and gold,
A private sunbeam to unfold –
The overcast may make us pout,
But when it rains, the sun comes out !

April Smarts

bloom blossom branch flora
Photo by Tabitha Mort on Pexels.com

 

April Smarts

We sense the sun is on the scout,
With Winter nothing but a pout,
And Spring a whisper to a shout,
And mornings quite the charm.

But hold, before we’re dashing out
And leaving coats to hang about,
For dressing down, not dressing stout,
Could lead us into harm.

I know the sun is warm today,
But sneaky Spring has form, they say –
He loves to send a storm our way !
Yet no cause for alarm…

Just run your mornings by the book
And take your coat down off the hook,
To lodge it safely in the crook
Of a shirt-and-cardy arm.

 

 

Downpour

 

downpour
Downpour by tootdood

 

Downpour

This rain is the rain of Poseidon,
The bullets of Buddha,
The stair-rods of Heaven –
It’s raining all over,
From Doha to Dover,
From Denver to Devon –
The swimmers must swim
And the timid must drown,
While the conquering thunder is taking the town.

This rain is the weeping of Angels,
The bleeding of Furies,
The flooding of Hades –
The wrath of the mountains,
The succour of fountains,
The drencher of ladies –
The cats follow dogs,
And the grey follows brown,
And it looks like it ain’t going nowhere but down !

 

 

Like Rain…

waiting
Waiting for a Friend by Maureen Hyde

 

Like rain…

Now, where was I again ?
Thinking, I think, about my thoughts,
And how many do I have each day ?-
How many zeros-worth, would I say ?
And should I call them ohs or noughts ?
And why is seven longer than eight ?
And eight o’clock, is that too late ?
So when does evening turn into night ?
And goodnight – must it mean goodbye ?
Can we say badbye ?  Worth a try ?
But is it really worth the fight ?
Boxing ?  I’ve never seen the draw,
Unless the glove is hiding a claw,
A mutant from a mad professor !
And don’t forget a screaming blond,
Unless it’s bleached and we’ve been conned !
Poor mum was scammed just last month, bless her.
Just last month ?  Or the month before ?
They go so quick, I’m never sure…
But why no ‘h’ in ‘sure’, I wonder ?
Seven wonders – pyramids…
I used to love them…them, and squids…
They’ve got some giant ones, Down Under.
Down…below the upper feathers…
Have they feathers round their nethers ?
Where do birds go in the rain ?
Still pouring, by the sound,
My thoughts just spinning round and round.
Now, where was I again…?