Tonight,
tomorrow,
and today,
rain drops and smoke rising from the chimney tops,
and fluffy clouds but all grey,
all grey and hanging gently in the air without a care,
whilst I despair,
and wish they were off to somewhere,
somewhere else,
yes, anywhere,
no, I do not care where,
because I am alive and bright,
but I curse the grey of the day,
and I stride,
I stride through the raindrops,
the raindrops that fall torrentially everywhere,
everywhere as I head for home,
to warm myself by the fire there,
and what a welcome thing it will be,
to get out from under this grey misery,
and to dry myself,
and dispel this cold that threatens my health,
oh, what a day,
happy and bright and grey,
and full of contrasts,
and the wind,
the wind with its vicious icy blasts,
it tries to knock me off my feet,
but on them I stay,
yes, on them I stay as I quickly head for home,
and as I do I get soaked through in minutes,
and how glad I am to see the back of nature,
and how happy I am to reach home,
and the welcome sight of my doorway,
despite loving being outdoors and loving nature,
nature is so often gloomy around here,
and I will stay in today, I think by the fire,
and not care for natures moods that are on display,
and most probably tonight,
and tomorrow,
and today,
indoors I will stay,
beside the fire with a book and a cup of tea,
and with my imagination elsewhere,
elsewhere and happy far away from natures moods,
and its torrential rain,
and its many dismal shades of grey.