gray

today’s a melancholy kind of day
birds are flying low, and cows laying down,
the leaves of great oak trees are spinning ’round,

whispers a-roaring while reapers make hay,
limp locks a-drooping from curly-topped crowns,
dry seaweed grows damp beneath painted clouds

it’s a good time to be inside tucked away
winged gnats are nipping, vile creepers break ground
it’s gray and windy, for cover we’re bound

the cock’s crow last night, filled us with dismay
we knew it was coming, signs all around
now hear the rain pour, bewitched by the sound
today’s a melancholy kind of day

~kat

I found several bits of weather lore for today’s NaPoWriMo 2019 Challenge Prompt: write a poem that starts from a regional phrase, particularly one to describe a weather phenomenon.