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Our Favourite Subject
Let us discuss our weather,
For it's what we English do,
Sometimes it pours, hell for leather,
And sometimes the sky is blue.
It is forever changing,
The forecast can be dire,
And temperatures can be ranging,
From cold to hot as fire.
We moan, when it is sizzling,
We moan, when it's cold and raw,
We moan, when it is drizzling,
And when it's snowing, even more.
It is our favourite subject,
Talked of from morn till night,
We never know what to expect,
Whether Centigrade or Fahrenheit.
With winds that blow and bluster,
And snow that can coat the ground,
Blizzards too, which will muster
In drifts. Then all becomes snowbound.
It's a great topic that is easy,
When getting a conversation to start,
One can talk about stormy or breezy,
Then go on to a real heart to heart.
Let us discuss the weather,
For it's what we English do,
It puts us at the end of our tether,
Yet it's something we have to pursue.
poem
by
Ernestine Northover
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