Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

The lion roared last night His wind of fury burned the ice away The lion roared and rain Poured down on me. All quiet, lamb Of comfort rest and peace The gray sky cleared to pale and wooly fleece Then white as lambs’ wool was The morning’s ice To frighten me. Lion and lamb Have battled hard this spring Tooth caught in wool And claw in slippery paw they’ll bring Mixed blessing and mixed weather To the land And warmth Eventually.

The rain still drips on windowpane Still slips its whispered murmur through the glass While thundering roof Reminds that storm will pass Rainwashed at last.

Gray skies were crying A memory of tears Pitter-pattering Rain on the ground All around me And gray. Came the sunshine’s bright dawning Of day. With thanks for sunshine

Beware the ice of March Might sliding slip; Beware the hours of April’s Windy showers; Beware the flowers of May, Ice marching over Frozen t-Ides. Written with thanks for the weather, cold or warm

They said the drought had hurt the flowers—not be so many this year. They said the river’d be higher, the banks more green. They said the trees were dying; some were brown, bark turning gray. They hoped for rain. Then I came home. Too much. I’d send them ours.

“It’s cold outside”; sky’s mainly gray, no rain, no coats required, but cold outside. “Such awful weather”; sky patched blue, faint sun, no sleeves required, but cold outside. “Such a gray day”; sky’s turning clear, the air grows softly warm. “Too hot outside”; put warm clothes on, set air-conditioning high.

Shall we stay? Shall we go? Promised sun threads feeble rays through growing nests of clouds. But trips are planned. Time rests on our command. We make our way. So, stay or go? Standing atop a mist-wreathed cliff, looking down on painted river under sky, Sunday’s sun-fire. A glorious trip!

The Big Freeze closed the airports—passengers stranded, desk-clerks frantic, pilots want to go home. The Big Freeze closed the freeways too, trucks sliding into snow-banks at the side. It even closed shops. The Big Freeze closed the stores? Shock horror! Then shoppers stayed home warming hearts at heart-warmed hearths.

It rained today, just a bit of a mist at the start, a bit damp and gray. We had to use the wipers when drips turned to showers; fat wet blobs rolling down the glass and rain drumming loud. Then came the insects rattling the roof; grass-hoppers clouds and bees and moths. Frogs slid down the windscreen in green muddy streaks, closely followed by bats. Why would bats fall out the sky? Why not just fly, we wondered, but worked it out when their teeth chewed through the glass. Afterwards we flew with them to pastures green—well, red perhaps.