Written in October


(While Resting on the Bed staring Gloomily at the Paper)


 The wind is blowing,
The cattle are lowing,
My head is reeling,
With tinnitus squealing,
 Rain clouds are hiding the sun;
The youngest and oldest
Wear expressions the coldest;
The TV is bawling,
The news is appalling,
 One seems to be constantly stun !

The storm that's arising
Is hardly surprising,
And now one feels ill
Having caught a bad chill;
 The unions are calling to strike:
No joy for the euro,
The rates should be zero,
Small hope for the Hellines,
           In debt they are well-ines;            
And little is as one would like !
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With apologies to Wordsworth  
'Written in March' (while Resting on the Bridge at the Foot of Brother's Water).
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Parody and image © Mirino, October, 2011

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