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 )