Tom Dylan

Wonderful Weekend Weather

All week the talk had been how

it\'s supposed to be nice at weekend

wall-to-wall sunshine, twenty plus degrees,

the summer was finally arriving.


By Friday evening there\'s not a cloud in the sky,

the sunshine makes inner-city Salford

feel like Spain or the Sahara,

the beer garden is packed, 

loud chatter, lager and laughter.


On Saturday the whole country is having barbecues,

sizzling sausages and sun-burnt skin,

children have water-fights in the street,

and the tinny pop music playing

can be heard three streets away.


On Sunday the sun still shines,

people bask in the wonderful weather,

the last of the barbecue food 

will be burnt to a crisp later

as the summer parties continue.


Late Sunday afternoon the skies darken

churning to grey-black as

dark clouds loom overhead,

then the rain starts to fall.

Minutes later its a down-pour.


I stand in my doorway, transfixed,

looking out at the lashing rain,

I extend a hand, catching the rain-drops

in my palm, smiling to myself, happy at last, 

that the weather has finally improved.