There seems to be an
extension to winter,
It is reluctant to trust
spring with summer.
Longer days are festooned
by swirls of cloud,
Disappointment is becoming
a regular visitor.
Soggy paths and water-logged
recreation fields,
Plans abandoned for an
internal vantage point.
Forest trails and tasty fresh
air picnics curtailed,
Picturesque Dales and Pennines
look a tad sad.
Weather predictions arouse
fear with excesses,
The jet stream tosses
opportunities high and low.
Wardrobes bulge with the eccentricities
of dress,
Woollies wearing thin with
the frequency of choice.
Sallow complexions
depressed without sighting sun,
Minds exercised by counting
down towards autumn.
Umbrellas and sunglasses occupy
handbag spaces,
Strawberries and cream
seems an unseasonal menu.
Other years when salads
were crisp and so refreshing,
Set aside with apparent
shivers of seasonal confusion.
©Copyright Eileen T O’Neill 02/06/2015
Well there is always a time in between seasons when you just have no idea what to expect :D hope the coming seasons provide you loads of happiness :D Loved this intriguing piece :D
ReplyDeleteLots of love,
Sanaa
life like seasons changes and sometimes it brings surprises that are either painful or happy
ReplyDelete