An ode to my waterproof trousers

The day that I bought you,

I feared it was rash.

It seemed quite dramatic,

You cost lots of cash.

You were hot and quite sticky

a lot of the time –

No air vents seemed much like

A hygeine-based crime.

You proved fairly useful

For days and then weeks

By repelling the mizzle

Without springing leaks.

But when winter came calling

Then you hit your stride.

You weathered some storms

(Though most big ones went wide).

When Aileen came calling,

It rained just a fraction.

Storm Brian was mostly

All talk and no action.

Caroline missed us

‘Cos she went up North

And Dylan’s full power

He never brought forth

Then Eleanor came,

And her spite never waned.

It rained and it rained

Like that wet plain in Spain

She blew down the trees,

And she carved up the beaches,

But I didn’t feel it

Because of my breeches.

Cocooning my legs

Like a black plastic shroud,

You protected my jeans

From the contents of clouds.

While my coat soaked it up,

And my boots took it in,

You kept me bone dry

Like a nice Gordon’s gin.

You showed your true worth

In a deluge with power.

Now I know I can trust you

In more than a shower.

And so now I love you,

And that might sound wrong,

But my love is the reason

This poem’s so long.

As Shakespeare once wrote

“To thine own self be true”,

But I think I’d have melted

If I didn’t have you.

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