.
Beyond “Daffodils”
The British weather gets my goat.
For once, upon a morning stroll,
My path became a flooded moat,
Whilst lightning’s flash and thunder’s roll
Alarmed me with their blinding din –
The downpour soaked me to the skin.
I trudged through muck, avoided trees
Lest I should be electrified,
Until I reached, on wobbly knees,
Dove Cottage, spent and petrified.
Alas, I got pneumonia,
In fevered dreams I tossed and turned,
While daily I grew bonier;
Yet fortune smiled, Death’s call I spurned.
And nowadays, my inner eye
Says, “Ere you walk, first check the sky!”
.
.
Paul A. Freeman is the author of Rumours of Ophir, a crime novel which was taught in Zimbabwean high schools and has been translated into German. In addition to having two novels, a children’s book and an 18,000-word narrative poem (Robin Hood and Friar Tuck: Zombie Killers!) commercially published, Paul is the author of hundreds of published short stories, poems and articles.
Thank you, Paul, for this witty and endearing reflection (although I’m very glad to hear you survived pneumonia). I think your poem well displays the British characteristic of being able to smile at yourself, not to mention the native fondness for talking about the weather! Best wishes, Bruce.