Cloudy Weather


It’s very downcast for the middle of May.
An uneasy quiet descends on the bay.

I’m not so sure she’ll want to come
The sky already dark and glum.

The waves, tormented with windy lies,
rush inland, their spite spraying those unwise.
(who gingerly peer or lean over the wall),
with an ice-cold watery, ferocious squall.

I have no idea what I will say.
Perhaps words will come to me if I pray?

A darkening sky the fine forecast denies,
promising instead an unwelcome surprise.

What would be the best way to convey
what I feel? All her fears allay?

A bolt of lightening, far out at sea,
and loud claps of thunder now decree
a storm brewing offshore; to my dismay
the rain begins; alas my bouquet!

Perhaps she will falter, change her mind,
to share my company she’ll feel disinclined.
Surely, surely, she will keep her word
or maybe I’m just being absurd…?

A seagull squawks. More thunder claps.
The storm might turn, or die out perhaps.

Should I follow nature, turn tail and run?
Fair maid by cowardice was never won!

But suddenly, a wayward cloud,
breaking from the community shroud
releases the sun to light up the street,
and slowing my hesitant, yellow retreat.

Then I see her, by a boarded cafe,
sheltering and waiting! So without delay
I cross the street, the storm unheeding-
every step, my nerves receding.
All the doubts are now dispelled
And my fear of rejection almost quelled.

She hugs me, her face a loving smile.
With relief I realise, it’s all been worthwhile.



Blogged with Flock


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