Dull damp mist drowns distant hills

Whipping sands – body chills

Sizzling summer Sunday sighs

Graying clouds fill sullen skies:

Plans once made for holidays

Ice cream cones, sandwich trays

Cases packed, suntan lotion

Parasols set by the ocean.

Irish dreams so often shattered

Into the car emotions battered

Tune into the radio

The weatherman has forecast snow.

J. Poet 7 ( @wordverse.me )