Wither Weather?

SKYWATCH

http://skyley.blogspot.com/

WITHER WEATHER?

Wither, oh weather-bird, streaking on by,

Swooping down south fast as weather-birds fly?

Pointing your beak to the distant South Pole

Where an island of ice is your terminal goal.

As you fly you are scattering chill in your wake;

And we, who are so used to sun, start to shake!

The flock flies beneath you, all huddled together.

Wither, oh weather-bird? We've winter weather!

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BREAKING THE ICE

He walked into the hotel; having parked his highpowered car,

And straight away he saw her as she sat up at the bar.

She was blonde (of course you knew that!), she was luscious, she was slim,

And he hoped, against all hope perhaps, that she had noticed him.

He smiled his usual gung-ho smile, the one that worked so well,

The smile that had demolished girls in every smart hotel.

She looked quite blankly at him, like he was made of glass,

Though he'd always been successful with this easy opening pass.

He chose a bar-stool near her and he gave a lingering glance,

It wasn't in his nature to admit he'd missed a chance.

She turned her head away from him and gazed up at the ceiling,

A gesture that resulted in a very sinking feeling.

He cleared his throat and then he said that awful time-worn phrase

'Do you come here often?'…… He was silenced with a gaze,

A gaze of such disinterest that it chilled him to the bone.

Could it be he'd leave the bar tonight unwanted and alone?

In desperation he moved up till he was near her ear

And he bellowed 'Ten Fat Penguins!' very loud and very clear.

At last she was alerted, she spun round, 'What did you say?'

And so he thought that it was time to give the game away.

He gave an explanation that was brief and so concise!

'I needed Ten Fat Penguins to help me break the ice!'

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P.S.

Yesterday was a 'Max' day. All three of us, Auntie Becca, Grandpa and I, are already feeling sad because he will have an extra day at pre-school next year and we'll all miss our 'fix'. We've had little boys in our lives for twelve years and now time is moving on.

It was a very cold day so we had lunch at the club. Here is Rebecca teaching Max to take a photo.

And here he is playing on one of the ornamental lions at the entrance.

And here I am smooching our other 'little boy'. Banjo is nine years old but he's an eternal puppy. Sorry about the 'blue eye'; my camera will only remove the red type!

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