Violets are Blue,
Droplets pound my windshield
Angry wind whistles too.
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue,
At least my tires grip well
Cause they’re practically new.
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue,
The wipers tap-dance
While my blinkers play peekaboo.
Roses are Red
Violets are Blue,
Dear clouds, ease up—
My nerves need rescue!
Yes! I just posted on the weather (to your right), too.
I enjoyed your poem– wonderful imagery and cry for relief. Love “Dear clouds, ease up— / My nerves need rescue!”