July entered with hurricane ferocity,

Blowing our front door right in,

Smashing open the letterbox,

With ricocheting echoes

Throughout the house.

Like a truculent teenager,

July slammed the bedroom door,

And broke a flower vase,

With her clumsy paws,

Before hurling the garden chairs

Hither and thither, everywhere,

Whilst sighing heavy raindrops

Upon our soggy leaf-strewn lawn.

 

‘Rough winds’ still flourish in July!

This weather, Gail, is reserved for us.

On a British Staycation, you, and I,

As Shakespeare averred, “it was ever thus.”