Umbrella Blues
When it’s breezing in the trees
‘cuz the wind’s begun to blow,
Or the leaves have been relieved
having fallen down below,
Or that treasonous first freeze
makes the temps drop to new lows…
When the birds are headed south
and the geese are on the wing,
When you’re looking for the daffodils
but haven’t seen a thing,
When you’re thinking Christ’s return
is more likely than the spring…
When the world is painted yellow
and the pollen makes you sneeze,
When barometers are falling
and you’re aching in the knees,
When everything is dry and hot
and you’re praying for a breeze…
When you’re planning your vacation
with regards for hurricanes,
Or you fret about umbrellas
on legs where you deplane,
Or you check Fujita scales
when a twister hits the plains…
You realize opportunities
for interrupts are rife,
From how you plan your day
to where you take your wife.
A thing o’er which you’ve no control
that causes some much strife:
So, stop fretting weather whethers
to avoid an anxious life.
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