On The Fly With a Rhyme From AI

  I set off with a cheerful grin, My journey home was set to begin. But lo! The skies began to grumble, And English clouds began to mumble.   The motorway turned into a stream, Wipers flapping like a dream. Cars ahead with brake lights glowing, In a queue that’s barely flowing.   “Just an hour,” I told my mate, But the rain had other plans for fate. Junction signs looked like a blur, And puddles played a splashing spur.   Lorries lurking , spraying spray, My hair now frizzled, gone astray. Radio drowned by thunder’s roar, My mind started to gently snore.   A squirrel dashed—it’s bold, it’s keen, Across the lane, a tiny scene. I swerved, I braked, with trembling hands, While traffic churned in soggy lands.   “Oh motorway gods , please hear my plea, Let me home safe, with a cuppa tea!” The rain kept falling, relentless, true, As miles stretched on in dreary hue.   At last, I reached my humble place, Rain-soaked, wind-blown, bedraggled face. But now, w...