Today’s poem

Such a dull and gloomy winter, constant cloud and leaden skies, And the dreary, dismal drizzle, nothing to surprise the eyes. March brings chilling, freezing breezes, signs of spring cannot be found. Some brave flowers try to flourish. Can they thaw the frozen ground? Temperatures drift up in April, for the marathon they rise, Only to descend to give us chilly winds and cloudy skies. But, what’s this? Delightful Maytime, blossoms everywhere appear. Blackbirds sing, the world is lovely, ah, a brilliant summer’s near. June continues with the sunshine, families heading for the sea, Paddling, swimming, sailing, surfing, what a lovely place to be. July next, the sky still cloudless. ‘Do you think we need some rain?’ Ground is hard and plants are wilting, gardeners starting to complain. August, and the heat continues, temperatures still on the rise. Every day the hot sun shining, there are no clouds in the skies. Grass has faded, harvest dying, gardens dusty, not much fun. Pools are drying, people frying, there are those who fear the sun. ‘Oh, September will be different, now the rain will start, what bliss.’ But it doesn’t. Just hot sunshine. ‘Will there be an end to this?’ Brown the leaves in fine October: ‘Ninety in the shade at noon.’ Strange to think we loved the weather in the happy days of June. Then the news comes, hard to credit. Armageddon has begun, For the planet’s course has altered, Earth is moving to the Sun. And I loll in hot November, thinking of last winter’s rain. Wish we could go back, but, sadly, that will never come again. Now it’s baking hot December, I am drained of all desire Just a basic need for water, as the Earth succumbs to fire. ‘How I wish for floods,’ I mumble, as I struggle to draw breath, Write these verses, put my pen down, and then sit and wait for death. Jill Rundle, Oundle, Cambs.