Explore "To my Umbrella" by Ruth Collie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Why is it, when you come with me, there's not a drop of rain to see? / But should I leave you safe indoors; ah! then, invariably, it pours. / You are a nuisance, without doubt. The wind blows high -- you're / inside out! And sometimes when you're opened wide, you slowly down / the handle slide, until you close about my hat, pressing it almost / pancake flat! You won't stand up, you won't sit down; you've often / made a stranger frown. (Such ill behaviour in a train, you've made / me blush, time and again! ) And when I'm busy in a shop on to the / floor you always flop. Your virtues? Well, they're really few. I / like your cover's cheery hue; your handle, too, is rather gay. Now, / where on earth are you to-day? Why do you always cause a fuss -- you / must have stayed atop that 'bus!