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You & The Clouds Will Still Be Beautiful

And every morning before Im awake
I walk around the world to make sure shes alright
And every evening fore I bolt the door
I give the stars a stir to make sure they will spin all night
For I see people who will scratch and spit and kick and fight
And I see nations war about whether right is left and whether wrong is right
And I know storms inside your head can amplify the blight
But no matter what the weather, you and the clouds will still be beautiful
No matter what the weather, you and the clouds will still be beautiful
And every troy with wooden horse
I take to peaceful waters but cant make him drown
And every bastille that gets stormtroopered
Hail to the chief comes rainin, rainin, rainin, rainin down
And Ive seen people conduct lightning down to a summers day
And Ive seen nations playfully hurl snowballs packed with stones and clay
And I know rain inside your head can seriously put a stop to play
But no matter what the weather, you and the clouds will still be beautiful
No matter what the weather, you and the clouds will still be beautiful
So let it rain
And when we see flying saucers, flying cups, and flying plates

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song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Good Weather

This good weather ruined me,
I resigned in such a weather
From my government job.
I got used to tobacco in such a weather,
I fell in love in such a weather;
I forgot to take home bread and salt
In such a weather;
My disease of writing poems
Recurred in such a weather;
This good weather ruined me.

poem by Orhan Veli Kanik
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The Second Voyage

1903

We've sent our little Cupids all ashore --
They were frightened, they were tired, they were cold:
Our sails of silk and purple go to store,
And we've cut away our mast of beaten gold
(Foul weather!)
Oh 'tis hemp and singing pine for to stand against the brine,
But Love he is our master as of old!

The sea has shorn our galleries away,
The salt has soiled our gilding past remede;
Our paint is flaked and blistered by the spray,
Our sides are half a fathom furred in weed
(Foul weather!)
And the Doves of Venus fled and the petrels came instead,
But Love he was our master at our need!

'Was Youth would keep no vigil at the bow,

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poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Wonky Weather

Never in my life before, can I ever remember,
Such mild weather, at the start of a November.
The grey squirrels, in the park, are still running wild,
As the weather, for this time of year, is warm and mild.

At the popular pub, a way along the seafront,
Some people sit outside, to enjoy their lunch.
Some brave souls, have rented themselves a beach hut,
While, along the shore, dog owners exercise their mutts.

Girls wear dresses, which leave their arms and legs bare;
That it’s now winter time, they don’t seem to really care.
On the crazy golf course, players are still having much fun;
All so eager to try and score that, often elusive, hole in one.

The weather in November is traditionally cold and grey,
But we’ve really enjoyed a most warm and pleasant day.
I would guess, this is all to do with global warming;
That a whole new pattern of weather is now forming.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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Heavy Rain

Fields everywhere, now are completely sodden.
No more can their surfaces be safely trodden.
The grass in the fields was all turning brown,
But now, I fear that the fields could drown.

This year, it looked like we were facing a drought,
But now, I can’t believe how much rain is about.
It rains all day long, without even a pause.
Only by the plants, is all this rain is adored.

On the roads, there are massive puddles.
In the fields, under trees, the cattle huddle.
I know we all said we wanted the rain,
But now, it’s becoming a bit of a pain.

There are grey skies constantly overhead,
And I’m not that tempted to leave my bed.
The water in the fields will take ages to go,
And, now many of the vegetables won’t grow.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
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wondering

I wonder I wonder
I wonder all day long
I wonder what you are doing today
I wonder what your wondering
I wonder, I wonder

What do you wonder?
Do you wonder what I'm doing today?
Do you wonder what I'm wondering?
you wonder, you wonder

What does she wonder?
Does she wonder weather her shoes are right?
Does she wonder weather her hair is right?
Does she wonder weather her brother and sister's are right
She wonders, she wonders

What does he wonder?
Does he wonder weather his shoes are right?
Does he wonder weather his haircut is right?

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poem by Ke'Love Moss
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Under the weather...

Under the weather
Down low
Beneath the ground
Water, mud, rain…

Soon I'll be gone
With the sand
In the wind

Sunny side up
Not so sunny
So I walk
Or is it mope?

I mope around
Away from the day
Escaping the sun's ray

Rainbow
Or is it a dark cloud?

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poem by Lynn El Amine
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My Hurricane Panic Attacks

The Weather Panic Attacks
Watching every weather station, reading every report
Stomach twisting in knots, knowing my home is to be my fort
Over whelming fear of doom, of this hurricane that's headed this way
Will this be the one, with wall of water that buries all that stay

I can't seem to breath and heart racing, can't calm down, so afraid
Brings me back to early childhood, to where some times I played
Brings back memories of abuse and being held under the dark water
Where I was held off a pier, being pulled under like a lamb to slaughter

I tell myself this will be okay, but deep down I guess I can't reason
I'm so terrified, because they say this will be a bad hurricane season
People don't want to hear the weather report any more from me
They can't feel the terror of what I feel and they can't see

Will I forever be doomed with this curse on my life, the fear and pain
Can the panic attacks begin to go and treat the weather like rain
The storm has pasted, the weather center I must start watching again
To start watching for tropical Caribbean weather all over again!

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poem by Donna Nimmo
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Hawk And Buckle

Where is the landlord of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Master Straddler this hot summer weather?
He's along in the tap-room with broad cheeks a-chuckle,
And ten bold companions all drinking together.

Where is the daughter of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Mistress Jenny this hot summer weather?
She sits in the parlour with smell of honeysuckle,
Trimming her bonnet with red ostrich feather.

Where is the ostler of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of Willy Jakeman this hot summer weather?
He is rubbing his eyes with a slow and lazy knuckle
As he wakes from his nap on a bank of fresh heather.

Where is the page boy of old Hawk and Buckle,
And what of our young Charlie this hot summer weather?
He is bobbing for tiddlers in a little trickle-truckle,
With his line and his hook and his breeches of leather.

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poem by Robert Graves
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Grey Skies In July

We are now well in to the month of July,
But above my head, there's a leaden sky.
For days on end, it has constantly rained,
And I must say that it's a right old pain.

Every time that I step out of my door,
The Heavens open and it begins to pour.
This awful weather is getting me down:
My once sunny smile has turned to a frown.

When it rains, it rains nearly all the day long;
For the middle of summer, it feels so wrong.
In July, we should be getting long days of sun,
But, so far, this month, we've had hardly none.

I hate these days which are dreary and dull;
With this wet weather, there is hardly a lull.
It was on the radio, that I heard one morning,
Half of Britain had severe weather warnings.

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poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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