The day that I bought you,
I feared it was rash.
It seemed quite dramatic,
You cost lots of cash.
You were hot and quite sticky
a lot of the time –
No air vents seemed much like
A hygeine-based crime.
You proved fairly useful
For days and then weeks
By repelling the mizzle
Without springing leaks.
But when winter came calling
Then you hit your stride.
You weathered some storms
(Though most big ones went wide).
When Aileen came calling,
It rained just a fraction.
Storm Brian was mostly
All talk and no action.
Caroline missed us
‘Cos she went up North
And Dylan’s full power
He never brought forth
Then Eleanor came,
And her spite never waned.
It rained and it rained
Like that wet plain in Spain
She blew down the trees,
And she carved up the beaches,
But I didn’t feel it
Because of my breeches.
Cocooning my legs
Like a black plastic shroud,
You protected my jeans
From the contents of clouds.
While my coat soaked it up,
And my boots took it in,
You kept me bone dry
Like a nice Gordon’s gin.
You showed your true worth
In a deluge with power.
Now I know I can trust you
In more than a shower.
And so now I love you,
And that might sound wrong,
But my love is the reason
This poem’s so long.
As Shakespeare once wrote
“To thine own self be true”,
But I think I’d have melted
If I didn’t have you.
[…] hardly an incentive to get out of the house because it takes ages to tool up with wellies and waterproof trousers and all the other accoutrements that come with living in an environment where a brolly […]