Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “weather”

29 Sep 2015
2 Comments

Patagonia in the Winter

If I lived in Patagonia in the winter
I could avoid the snow and cold and dark. A
happy camper I
as back and forth I fly
sans heavy boots and mitts and hooded parka.

If I lived in Patagonia in the winter
I wouldn’t slip and slide in ice and snow.
The most I’d slip on is a sweater
as I enjoyed the weather
‘cos their summer is our winter don’cha know.

I could live in Patagonia in the winter
Speak Spanish and never have a care.
For the rest of the year
I’d just live here.
But first I’ll have to be a millionaire.

Sigh

#77

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning #2, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , ,
13 Dec 2012

Hot Flash!

In some latitudes she’s violent,
In some she is benign,
In most, her disposition
is dependent on the time
of year it is, but usually
there’s a possibility
of predicting her behaviour
With some chance of accuracy.
And then there is the Peace region,
where she has the power
to jump from minus twenty
to zero in an hour.
Bet on Peace region temperatures
if you want to lose your cash
Cause this is where Ma Nature comes
When she’s having a hot flash.

#355

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , | Leave a comment
09 Jul 2012

Weathering the Weather

We spend ten months complaining the weather’s too cold
and a month that the weather’s too hot.
And the couple of weeks that occur in between
Are the closest to perfect we’ve got.

Is there any place anywhere here on this earth
where the weather’s predictably fine
and the primary topic of all conversation
isn’t whether the sun’s gonna shine?

I’m tired of being climatically-centric
I will not indulge speculation
The weather’s not altered by my puny input,
or by my  anticipation.

So starting today Weather’s all on her own,
Don’t talk to me of predictions.
Short range forecasts are just wishful thinking
and long range are just science fiction.

There’s no sense in discussing the weather, my friend,
It’s not like we have any say.
The only thing we can be certain of is that
there’s sure to be some kind of weather today.

 

#198

Posted in A New Poem Every Morning, Poetry, Writings and tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

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