That Sort of Day

The rain was coming down in torrents
Bouncing off the road as high as your knee
The wind was blowing a gale
Sufficient to turn umbrellas inside out
And it was cold enough to snow
Or sleet, it didn’t though.
It was the sort of day to stay at home
With a good book and a hot cup of coffee
It was the sort of day to sit in the warmth
Of your sitting room and enjoy
Watching the weather through the window
From the comfort of your favourite armchair.

And if I had been that sort of person
The sort of person who would stay at home
On that sort of day
I’m sure I’d have enjoyed a nice cup of coffee
And a jolly good book.
But I’m not that sort of person.

So instead, I went out for a walk
Round a lake in the nearby hills.
It was that sort of day when the birds
Flew sideways unable to choose exactly where to go.
It was the sort of day when even the ducks
Didn’t want to venture away from their shelters.
And it was the sort of day when
I regretted being that sort of person
Who can’t sit at home in a warm dry chair
Reading and drinking and enjoying creature comforts.