My mother had a parasol,
Antique and made from lace,
It was of little use at all,
It only just shaded her face,
Oh, give me an umbrella,
Brash, and colourful and loud,
I’m no Cinderella,
I just want shelter from that rain cloud!
Umbrella
24 Thursday Apr 2014
Posted in poetry
Caro Field Author 
My problem is that I rarely use them (closer to never) and, therefore, always leave them somewhere…
The perennial problem!
Love it! Practical you! Me too! Great image too.
It’s a fab image isn’t it?
I love the way you made the point of what an umbrella is for in such a delightful poem. 🙂
Thank you very much!
🙂
Well, an umbrella is simply a must-have accessory. Especially in this country, right?
Naturally! Anywhere.