A sorry excuse for summer

A sorry excuse for summer

When it feels like winter

The low, limp clouds

Flabby with rain

The heat of a wood stove

Barely warming the air.

Treachery

On a Beaufort scale

The promise of the day

Broken before dawn.

A huddle for warmth

Overtaking the spirit

Of a holiday

When the roof leaks

The chemical toilet

Needs cleaning

The wind bites.

We brave

The muddy walk

To the cafe

Rather than endure a soggy ramble

To a picnic site.

Cards are played

Hands are clasped

Warmed with

Hot cups.

There was no mention

Of bad weather

If only it were forecast

We could have brought coats.

Who would have thought

It would be unseasonal

When every day

We are warned

Of approaching Armageddon.

There is no one-word answer

For the complexity

Of holiday planning

When everything

Is changing

Life is full of surprises

Which is better than a

Disappointment