It is in the air, can you feel it?
It is frizzing up your hair,
can you deal with it?
The skies full of marbled clouds
and rumbles loud enough to
rattle Glasgow. Winds, gay gales
of ravenous breath devours,
all in its wake. And so it begins.
Misty, clouds of vapor intensify.
Drops enlarge and magnify.
Winds whip and wreak havoc,
your umbrella has inverted.
And these monstrous drops of precipitation
have forced closed the Edinburgh station.
Rain, rain everywhere,
Dear Lord this weather stinks.