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A WHISPER

REMEMBER

CHRISTMAS IS A WONDROUS TIME

TEA

AUTUMN FALLS AT OUR FEET

Poetry Poem

SUMMER

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WEATHERED,    BUT    NOT    BEATEN



An icy wind pulled rawness to my skin
And the rain fired pellets on to my hair
In an instant I was sodden
And my usually coiffed display
Was rigid to my scalp

The morning bristled with unease
As pallid faces wrestled their plight
And mangled umbrellas were cast aside
Gutters nurtured rivers where cigarettes butts swam
Vehicles taking amusement
As their tyres threw spray

Shoes that had collected a litre of water each
Squelched noisily
As I fought the next step

A week, it took to dry them out
But this was mad March weather
And ner a drought








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