Picnic in the Park

For weeks I had looked forward to a picnic in the park.
But the glorious sun turned into rain and we left there in the dark.

It should have been a restful eve of chillin' by the lake.
Instead we shivered, and with shaking hands we struggled with the cake.

We watched the artists strolling by enjoying group by group.
But the stall which was most welcoming served hot, French onion soup.

There were singers and musicians, and people dressed as trees.
But the ladies dressed as swimmers did not anticipate a freeze.

The evening eventually ended and we headed for the bus.
The English weather had decided not to be kind to us.