The rain continues to fall in north-west England...

Bad weather

Mother blamed the Russians,
Said it was unnatural for men
To fly in space,
Uncle Bill doubted the wisdom
Of forecasting, took his
Weather one day at a time,
Patience is a virtue he would say,
The old man at the end of our road
Used even older weather lore,
Would read the runes and swore
That day would follow night,
A cautious man was he,
My primary teacher, a cynical woman,
Teased us that St. Swithin's Day
Was a moveable feast,
And, yes, she always seemed to be right,
And later at secondary school,
Listening to the wind and rain give
The roof above six of the best,
I was made to appreciate how weather
Can dampen human endeavour,
Ergo Napoleon and Hitler
Humbled by Siberian snow,
They blamed the Russians, too.

Chris Fernie, 2009

Poetry by Chris Fernie
Read 650 times
Written on 2009-05-21 at 10:29

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Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
I enjoy how you began this with blaming the Russians, then going through the perceived lore to end up with russian winters defeating Napoleon and germany - good stuff, I think the weather is a great cause of conversation for many, regardless where you are from

Elle x

Some say the weather is an english pastime as it seems to invade so much of our conversation but then it is so unpredictable I fear its bound to, I like some what the style in which you have put this together somewhat tongue in cheek and yet we can all relate to a pleasure to read.

Great raininspired poem, I love the oldtime attitude to forecasting. And amazing to think, really, what a difference the weather makes to just about everything..

My husband the meteorologist says that the most certain forecast for tomorrow's weather is that it will the same as today's ... bit of a somersault of thought to me, somehow :-)