After a busy writing day on my next novel I took a break and went for a walk. This poem is dedicated to the uncertain weather in April; drenching rain one minute, sunshine the next.
Wrapped-up tight against the squally showers
Hardy dog walkers ignore the biting rain.
Through scudding clouds of grey, the sun appears,
Washed weak, no hint of any promised flame.
Sparrows flit around, in hunt for tasty bugs
Hiding in the straggly rain drenched grass.
Drooping daffodils in pretty, patterned jugs
Wait to be replaced by showy tulip flowers
And carpets of bright English bluebells
Stand tall, impatient for the April sun.