Extra Poem - The Weather
What has happened to the Summer
In this year of Twenty Fifteen;
Leaving a trail of mass destruction
maybe the worst you’ve ever seen.
July was windy, cold and wet
kept raining like cats and dogs;
The land soon became raging rivers
even managed to drown the frogs.
They couldn’t swim against the floods
no dry land to hop upon;
Still struggling they got swept away
and in a moment they were gone.
At first flowers slowly hung their heads
their petals broken as they were tossed
in the strong winds and bitter nights
they just finally gave up the ghost.
Berries turned rotten on the bushes
lacking sunshine and always wet;
Root crops in the garden failed to grow
and peas and beans refused to set.
Greenhouse tomatoes were slow to ripen
grain was all flattened to the ground
Pleasure in the local summer breaks
was pretty difficult to be found.
We’re into the month of August now
but the forecast is ‘more of the same’
Folk are fed up with the British weather
which I feel is quite a shame.
It’s known as a lush green fertile land
and the weeds have proved the point
growing in every available space
strong and healthy - a large amout.
But this doesn’t happen every year
many hearts it still begui
For visiting tourists tend to return
to our homeland, The British Isles