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Bardo Nov 2023
The Irish Summer (i.e. when you  only get the sunshine) is a very elusive thing
But having lived in Ireland all my life I figured it out many years ago
Although there may be some freakish weather events like the occasional heatwave
The Irish Summer lasts from the end of the English soccer season to the start of the Wimbledon tennis tournament (when the covers go on)
Those few short weeks
Then it reverts to being a mixed bag of sunshine and showers
So whenever Wimbledon starts up I always get out my thin flimsy shower proof coat
It's lovely and light so you won't be sweating
And I also have my little umbrella handy too.

Now I'm always telling people my theory of the Irish Summer
Whether they believe it or not
There's a young guy I work with and I told him my theory
Then awhile later we had to attend this big work event/meeting
It was held in Croke Park (the Gaelic football stadium) in Dublin
We were up in the Executive boxes overlooking the pitch, was really cool
We had walked there as it wasn't too far from our office
I had my showerproof on and had my little umbrella
My young workmate was just wearing a black leather jacket and had no umbrella
I thought to myself "Man, you're living dangerously"
Sure enough when we're walking back to the office
The heavens open and it ****** down on us
I'm standing there under my umbrella smiling in my showerproof
While my young friend is standing there like a drowned rat, the saddest sight
And I say to him "What did I say, didn't I tell you about the Irish Summer ?"
Then I say "Did you ever read the story of Noah's Ark ?"
I felt sorry for him and let him share my umbrella.

And the ****** still hasn't bought a showerproof
He's impossible.... he's obviously still... a non-believer.
This summer and autumn as well must have been one of the wettest ever in Ireland, was a real wash out.  But there was a few good weeks there just before Wimbledon, my theory is waterproof LoL.
Sally A Bayan Sep 2022
My sister bought it years ago,
too bad, my mother didn’t
get the chance to enjoy it,
she would've treasured it.

It became a reminder of sadness,
an unintended metaphor, for loss
and always brought back
that very unexpected, very sad
early morning in February.

Its bright red handle...faded
through weeks, months and
years of changing seasons,
stood on a corner for a long
time...unused, but still intact,
until i took notice one day,
brought it out of its dusty wrap
and opened the red cane umbrella.

A smiling face suddenly flashed
in mind...a presence who, on
early mornings, eagerly recited,
“I am the master of my fate:
  I am the captain of my soul,”
tirelessly sketched portraits of
unknown faces during unholy hours,
planted, cooked, sewed, while
humming "Ramona" who
taught us about silent vows and
undying promises that eventually,
became ours to keep.

It's now an accompanying cane,
the red saves me
from miscalculating steps, from
falling debris, when keeping walls
from crumbling.

sally b

©Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
September 29, 2022
LC Apr 2022
fragile umbrellas are strewn
across the cluttered forest floor,
nourishing strong connections
from all over the world.
their gills are loaded weapons
that fire spores into the air
at the speed of light.
if we blink, we miss it -
and the umbrellas multiply.
Escapril Day 23! Prompt: blink and you'll miss it. I've been thinking about nature a lot lately, especially fungi, which are so interesting. Fun fact: fungi are more closely related to animals than plants! I never knew that, and that fact blew my mind.
Anyway, this poem was inspired by fungi. I hope you enjoy it 😊
Drip, drip, drip, a constant rhythm as the raindrops collided against her umbrella, protecting her like a knight, his enemies small but many as she goes about her day carrying with her a bouquet of flowers picked along her travels whispering to herself.

It's the details she wishes to rope in and hold forever as she examined the wet spot on this particular petal of her freshly picked bouquet, magnifying all the perfect imperfection, because she sees herself, and there's beauty in that too.
Sharing an Umbrella

It starts with sharing an umbrella
And ends with sharing our lives
Part twenty-two
nuanced at night Mar 2021
you hide under an umbrella made of steel
wincing at the sound of the rain as it hits the pavement

the same sound that I love so well
the soft pitter patter that mimics my beating heart

you cower away from the water, while I dive headfirst into the downpour

I just want you to come dance in the rain with me, that's all

set your steel umbrella aside and play with me for a bit

you and I under the bleeding sky
could it really be so bad?
Brumous Feb 2021
When the time comes, I'd feel so numb and empty.
I really want to ask this to you.

Would you comfort me? Like how I comforted you?

Try all my best, like I did for you?

Despite that brewing storm inside me, would you come and rescue me?

Will you be there to wipe the melancholy tears as it falls like the heavy rain?

Can you make me happy, like how I try to do the same; just for you?

Would you care for me, Like I did for you?

All by Myself, In a room with no doors, just four corners. Alone in the dark.

What would you do?
Seriously, I don't know if this is good enough. Some words feels so dry and bare.
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