Our winter is making a slow and bouncy start. We had some snow ... it melted. We had some rain ... it turned to ice. The days have been rather bleak with that annoying half light that makes the entire day seem like it's perpetually 4:00 p.m. Dark. Dreary. And on that happy note, I thought you might enjoy this poem written by someone who was obviously fed up with the weather. I found it in my Dad's desk and wrote it out. I remember my Dad reciting this poem verbatim for many years in his best Yorkshire accent, so it was a rather nostalgic find. When I read it to Dad I could see his lips remembered the words, but not his mind. He did remember the final line, however, which was oft quoted around our house on a drizzly day.
Judging by the descriptions of the weather, I'm pretty sure this was written by a Brit. Here in Canada we only have two weather variances ... freezing cold for eight months, and sweltering hot for four.
April brings the sweet spring showers
On and on for hours and hours.
Austere and kindly May
Frost by night and hail by day.
June just rains and never stops
Thirsty days that spoil the crops.
In July the sun is hot
Is it shining? No, it's not.
August, cold and dank and wet,
Brings more rain than any yet.
Bleak September's mist and mud
Is enough to chill the blood.
Then October adds a gale,
Wind and slush and rain and hail.
Dark November brings the fog,
Should not do it to a dog.
Bleak December with wintry wind
Would though wert not so unkind.
January brings the snow
Makes your feet and fingers glow.
February's ice and sleet
Freeze the toes right off your feet.
Freezing, wet, blustery March,
Bloody April again!
Hope you enjoyed it :)