If I had wanted to be born in England, I would have. But no, someone has decided that Washington is England with misty soggy moors, and without the nice heather. Instead we have Scotch Broom. Close enough.
Sun, where are you?
You are shiny and bright.
You make the barn light. (so I can see what I'm eating)
You brighten my mood.
Rain is just rude. (and drippy)
Coming back would be fine.
Outdoors I would dine.
Not inside with Alpine.
Please??? Pretty please with a Peanut on top? (Which ought to be an indication of just how much I MISS you.)
Several Peanuts then.