General Humour
The Weather Girl
Dec 2001
I've fallen in love with the weather girl
I'm her slave every time she appears
I go weak when she mentions her thermals
And her lows just reduce me to tears.
I imagine her wearing green wellies
As she tells me that rain's on the way
And I drool at the thought of her swimsuit
When she says it will be a nice day.
She has total control of my movements
If she tells me to stay in, I do.
Then I search through the channels to find her
For without her my skies are not blue.
Who cares if she talks about cold snaps?
It's her warm front that captures my heart
Yet, while isobars bring us together,
We're still weather systems apart.
the above work is copyright David Axton © All Rights Reserved
