Clouds, a grey dull today
That’s better than yesterday
Or twas it the day, before,
Or even the day before, the day before
The clouds a ***** shade of coal
Threatening Thor’s thunder,
Urging the dogs to bark
The birds to scuttle for hedges
Maybe tomorrow the clouds
Will be less intent
On thunderous outbursts
Instead scud lightly across the brightest
Of blue, like all good clouds should
To please the eye, behind the shades
I’ve told myself it can’t rain forever
Despite Saint Swithern’s curses
That the fifty shades of grey felt pens
Will run out of rainy ink tomorrow