Welcome Water

                                 Local press photograph

WATERY WEDNESDAY
http://waterywednesday.blogspot.com/

WELCOME WATER

A glorious wet winter

Put an end to 'endless' drought;

After ten years of dry weather.

Rain was welcome without doubt.

Lake Ayre is full of birdsong,

Where once was only sand,

And colourful desert blossoms

Embroider all the land.

Here, in our coastal city,

We're rarely short of rain,

But even we were happy

When La Nina came again.

El Nino is the Christ Child

Who brings drought at Christmas Time;

La Nina is the girl child

And her rains are quite sublime.

When we are dry South America

Rejoices in the rain;

When we are wet South America

Feels dry weather pain.

It's all to do with the ocean,

Or that's what I've been told;

Sometimes it is warmer,

And sometimes it is cold.

Whatever may be the reason,

These children don't much care

What magic brought the rain to us!

So long as they get their share!

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GUITAR MAGIC!

I wrote this as song to sing with a guitarist friend.

(I've never been to Spain!)

When you play your guitar,

I visit castles in Spain.

I see the walls reaching high

To the blue of the sky.

I'm back there again.

I walk the streets of Madrid

And make a wish on a star.

I feel the joy I once did,

When you play your guitar.

When you play your guitar,

I sit in courtyards at night.

I feel the warm, scented air

As it ruffles my hair

And I thrill with delight.

I place a glass to my lips

And I drink sangria.

I'm there in Spain once again

When you play your guitar.

When you play your guitar,

I see mantillas of lace.

I feel the spell of romance

And I still seem to dance

With beauty and grace.

Though it's so long ago,

It seems it's not very far.

My heart will sing 'Bolero'

When you play your guitar,

When you play your guitar

I see the face I adored

And then I suddenly find

I taste in my mind

The wine he once poured.

I smell the scents of the night

Through attic windows ajar.

His arms are holding me tight

When you play your guitar.

When you play your guitar

I wear an old Spanish shawl,

And then the soft summer breeze

That wafts through the trees

Can't chill me at all.

The blossoms fall on my hair

Like scented rain from afar

And every song seems a prayer

When you play your guitar.

So please play your guitar,

And let the music revive

All the songs that were sung

When the world was still young

And so much alive.

Let me be, once again,

Where happy memories are!

Transport me back there to Spain

With your magic guitar.

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