My Barometer

I  call him “Bazzo”- my pal with no brain,
He tells me when its going to rain.
One day Baz said there will be sun,
So I went out to have some fun.

I put on lipstick, did my hair,
Wore new high heels to the fair.
Chased the lads across the park,
My heels were sore but we had a lark!

A rain storm came with a mighty blast,
Baz was wrong with his forcast.
With make up running down my face,
I minced home at a painful  pace.

I told Baz off when I got there,
I was so wet I couldn’t care.
Dad said ” you’re looking a right old mess
For a son in his sixties – now change that dress!”