Blossom sat down, and declared the world was mad
Didn’t the stupid rain know where it should fall?
Why was her furniture floating in this wet England?
Whilst the land of her birth, was as dry as a bone.
Three years, she’d been here, left the famine behind
Had enjoyed the rain; at first, on her upturned cheeks
But now it was up to her knees, she wanted it gone
‘Go to Africa’ she cried ‘you are not needed here!
Burning sun of Ethiopia – I wish, you were here.’