(An ode to British weather. And the people who endure it.)
The Land of Puddle and Rain
Where you are always sure to get wet,
Where mud reaches up to your elbows
And only water-proof concrete will set.
The grass grows green and long
And water is never an issue
Where winter is sure to be nippy
And the most common cry is "atishoo!"
Where showers are free every morning,
(You get one if you stand outside)
And central heating is vital
Or, at least, a large fireside.
You'll never be properly dry there
No matter how hard you try
The puddles and mud are everywhere
Beneath the rainy sky.
But the people of this land are resilient
You'll never meet a hardier lot
They'll get their walks on the beach,
Whether it's pouring or not!
The weather won't dent their pride,
Nothing daunts their hearts brave
Not even a cold, bleak midwinter
Will cause their courage to cave.
Yes, this land is a damp one
Covered in mist, fog and foam.
But, no matter how foul the climate.
We Brits still call this place home!