(What we did on our
summer vacation)
The summer memories of the year
Have shifted into higher gear.
As barometric pressure drops,
We raise our hackles. Traffic stops.
An outlook optimal we seek.
The forecast has been mostly bleak.
Metallic-sounding pelts of hail
Attack us with each passing gale.
With cancellations and delay.
And polished sandals ne’er grow old,
But sit unworn to gather mold.
Our gardens grumble ‘neath the flood,
Our gardens grumble ‘neath the flood,
By verdant lawns reduced to mud.
Humidity pours spirits low,
Along with added overflow.
A new storm warning hits the air.
We gnash our teeth and pull our hair.
Vacation longings tug our hearts,
As weather spills clear off the charts.
Mosquitoes reaching record swarms
Do flourish with the frequent storms.
We gripe and groan and swat at sores.
Perhaps we’d better stay indoors.
This poem incorporates these blog prompts:
Meme
Express – “storm warning”
One Minute
Writer – “summer memories”
That’s My Answer – “pressure”
Theme Thursday –
“rain”
Three Word
Wednesday – “metallic,” “optimal” and “polished”
Thursday
Challenge – “old”
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Image/s:
Pixabay public domain image
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a witty rhyme; enjoyed; have a good weekend
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