It seems the rain has vacated Spain
And followed us away on vacation again.
The unpromising absence of summer sun
Dampening hopes a we’ve just begun
To orientate to getting up late
And barely starting to contemplate
The where, what and how of filling the day
Without a single, solitary ray…
But we’re British, dammit!
We live with worse-
To write off the day is simply perverse.
The fact we left all coats behind
A sign of an optimistic mind:
A sign, yes, of the hope for sun
Because at home there has been none.
That hearty jingoistic approach
Inevitably ending in reproach.
Though if the gods are on my side
Then waking and sunshine may just coincide…
*Opus Italiane #3…