Another Predictable British Summer!

Another predictable British Summer With merely a glimpse of the sun. H2O bullets, from gunmetal sky Causing us Gremlins to run. A bee-line for cover is what we all make Dilution the obvious fear. One part person to three parts water Can make our good mood disappear. Is it better to run, or wetter to walk? Does it matter the size of the drops? Is direction a factor, in front or behind? And what do we do when it stops? We stick out an arm from the shelter we've found To feel for a drop on bare skin. If that's inconclusive we look at the ground, At puddles, for ripples therein. Once it's decided the downpour is done We cautiously start off again. With our eyes to the sky, praying it stays dry, But convinced that it's starting to rain. Just another predictable British Summer!