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Jan 8
Grey clouds burst from leaden skies,
While puddles mirror my heavy eyes,
The thrumming droplets on window panes
Echo the throbbing of my aches and pains.

Lifeless streets shine, although grim and wet,
While every puddle swells with regret,
As wind blows through the scraggy bare trees,
Howling and wailing into the breeze.

I stand in shop doorways to keep dry
As rain continues to fall from the sky,
Like tears that stain the sullen ground,
And my hope dissipates without a sound.

I look around and I know
That it will be another dismal day.

©️Lizzie Bevis
I'm very English…I complain about the weather, just poetically!
Lizzie Bevis
Written by
Lizzie Bevis  F/England
(F/England)   
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