Blame The Weather

Morning came; the sun? Not in sight
Early on, I felt something not right
Lying there, asking "Why?"
As I looked at the sky
No sign of warm morning light.
Cool, damp zephyrs licked all round my head
Having, with them, subliminal dread
Over us, a grey sky
Looked like it may cry
Yet perennially just sulked, instead

A poem for February 14

I don't want to sound sanctimonious

But the vibe for this weekend is odious 

I'll go further and say

The Real Saint of the day

Is a pair: Cyril & Methodius