My bodhran is limp from the rain,
Its sound is thoroughly bad;
Instead of a sturdy thud,
My drumming is weak and sad.
Whatever can one do
When goat skin chooses to sag?
Playing a flabby bodhran
In this constant rain is a drag.
It's the same with everything else:
My guitar's too damp to tune it
And my allergies have me stopped up--
Don't ask for a song, I can't croon it!
Perhaps I would do better
To move to a different clime,
But how do the Irish play bodhran
In a land where it rains all the time?
Stephen Brooke ©2005
Still a-rainin' and a-blowin' here. The river only spilled over this morning down on some low sections of road near the mouth. I suppose it could be over its banks again at high tide this afternoon.