Wind stopped play on Saturday night
The palette I carry was far too light

As the gust blew down Wellington Street
I clamped my easel and trolley under my feet

I pushed back on the board, clipped between the lamp and easel bar
Till the whole kit lifted like a sail, a step too far

Enough was enough, time to give in
A mere ten minutes’ work, just a bit of blocking-in

Back home there’ll be brushes to clean, prep for next time…
Then jot down this account with a dubious rhyme.