For a complete change I thought I would post a humorous verse I write a few years ago. Please note this is covered by copyright and should not be reproduced anywhere without permission. If you enjoy it, please do feel free to share the blog link and remember you can buy my book of poems HERE
The Great Storm
Since eighty-seven our Annabelle
was often heard by friends to tell,
that since the news at half past ten,
she’d learnt distrust of weathermen.
For hearing Michael Fish then say
there’d be no winds upon that day,
she had no chance of hurricane,
but maybe she would have some rain,
she left the shed door propped ajar,
then found next day it went quite far.
She searched quite hard before she found
the shed upon her neighbour’s ground.
From that day on, the poor girl claimed,
in order they could not be blamed,
the weathermen would, through the gloom,
predict a forecast based on doom.
but this, in her considered thought,
had just made people overwrought;
no reason should they feel alarm,
for rarely would they come to harm.
Though never good at geography,
dear Annabelle quite liked the sea
and often she was heard to boast,
of all her travels round the coast.
She took up camping where she found,
she loved the view of Severn Sound.
She pitched her tent upon the hill,
the view she had was such a thrill,
but then the news claimed that a storm
was showing signs that it would form.
They told the people way in land,
to find some bags to fill with sand.
With force ten winds on Beaufort scale,
at very least a good strong gale,
young Annabelle thought she’d be fine,
the tent pegs tied with extra twine.
When millibars began to fall,
she didn’t fear the winds at all.
She slept quite sound, not tossed nor turned,
despite the fuss she hadn’t learned.
Then as she slept, the wind grew strong.
The little tent was swept along.
The girl was gone without a trace,
whilst all her pegs were left in place.
Though nothing left where she had been,
poor Annabelle was later seen,
a kite above the stormy seas,
her pigtails flapping in the breeze.
© Rosemary J Kind
(do not copy without the writer’s express permission)