Sunday sky the weather in the morning, please.
The night now battles round with wind and rain.
The storm plays devil with the chimney pots
The cloud descends, and drizzles down the drain.
Sunday sunlight needed in the morning please.
A swept and shining, breathless, briny sky.
Darkness is pressing hard against the window panes.
I dream of day bright, daylight, open eye.
In deep rain light I try to sleep, but find
My mind like straw is threaded on the wind.