They tell us it’s the climate
That
makes our country wet
So,
climate is what we expect
But
weather is what we get
They tell us it’s the climate
That
makes our country wet
So,
climate is what we expect
But
weather is what we get
A day without sunshine?
Now
let me get this right
A
day without sunshine?
That
would be like, night
In the late summer sky
The
falcon in majestic flight
Spied
it’s unfortunate prey
Then
swooped down from great height
With
lightning speed
It
took a pigeon on the wing
Then
with much less grace and style
It
performed a clumsy landing
In
a quiet village garden
On
the sunny patch of grass
The
falcon went about its work
And
performed the coup de gras
From
the house a curious cat
Peered
out with envious eyes
Through
a window as the falcon
Devoured
its pigeon prize
The
cat crept through the cat flap
In
its most stealthy way
The
falcon though was off
But
left behind its pigeon prey
The
cat inspected the pigeon
Sniffed
it and poked it with her paw
Found
it a disappointment
And
she strolled away once more
As
she strolled back to the house
The
falcon swooped to the ground
Snatched
up his pigeon prize
Before
the cat could turn around
The
falcon had taken the bird
Leaving
nothing in its place
Leaving
only feathers on the lawn
And
a scowl on the cat’s face
On a stormy night
As
stranger’s slumber
Around
the gables
The
wild wind howled
And
rain hit the panes
Like
thrown gravel
As
the lightning struck
And
thunder growled
From the break of each new dawn
When
heralding the new day
The
sun crests the horizon
To
Paint the eastern sky
With
natures orange glow
Until
it sets again
In
majestic splendour
Beyond
the western hills
And
is swallowed by the darkness
It
gives life with its benevolent light
Amidst the myriad stars
The
bright crescent moon
Hangs
in the midnight sky
And
palely paints the ocean
With
its gentle lunar light
The mist cascaded down the hillside Like a maiden’s hair Tumbling onto her shoulders The bare branches of the birch trees Pierced ...