I was whinging in the rain, once I remember well
It was cold and grey and to the bone I could tell
Memories of summer had faded as vapour
Lost in damp denim and golfing umbrellas
“You should be thankful”, said she, amidst the clatter
Of rain on tarp and pitter patter
“‘Tis a sign of blessing, not lamentation
Of spiritual joy lost in translation”
Nick Franks
firebrandnotes.com 