It’s in every conversation that we seem to have each day
We have to comment on it no matter what we say
There are sayings all about it, we blame it for our ills.
Sometimes it makes us boiling hot, and other times it chills
But the British are famous for it, so we’ll look at it this week
Each day will be quite different – on the weather I will speak.
One of my favourite memories is when the children were quite small,
We’d often take them camping, and we always had a ball.
Living in a six berth tent, with just room to swing a cat.
The sound of rain on canvas, a gentle pittar pat.
We even felt quite snug and comfy when wind blew and rain lashed down.
Of course if it went on too long then the kids did start to frown.
We often seem too quick to moan about a spot of rain
With washing out or holiday it can be quite a pain
But think again how long would we last if rain were to never drop
If when we turned the tap on, the flow at once would stop.
For we rely on water to do so many things
Without a second thought we hear the kettle sing.
Yet isn’t rain a miracle the way if falls down from the sky,
And brings new life upon the earth that previously was so dry,
And then it runs into the sea where there it gets mixed with salt,
Then it’s caught back up again, the process doesn’t halt.
It’s just the same with God our Father, His blessings freely give,
We can keep them flowing outward simply by the way we live.