On sitting in . . .

'They' say, usually from a safe disinterested distance, that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  Well, in a toned down version, I took the idea behind that aphorism and applied it to a circumstance which usually presages a whole series of minor calamities: sitting on a chair which still had a pool of water from a recent shower.  In the scale of things, this is not a disaster, but it is an irritation and you can't help thinking what the response of others is going to be when they see the seat of your trousers!
          I decided to make a virtue of the upset and started (damply) to write about the little incident.  The result is the following 'poem' which, if a little self-consciously ponderous is also something that was fun to write!  And, yes, it is the longest title of any poem that I have written!

On sitting in a shallow puddle of water left by a shower of rain on the seat of a red plastic chair outside the sports café on a Monday morning just before drinking a cup of tea after a swim.

Relaxation.

Anticipation.

Inundation.

Realization.

Consternation.

Humiliation.

Evaporation?

Resignation.

Utilization.

Justification.

Gratification!

Never let it be said that there is anything about which you cannot write a poem!  If, of course, this actually is a poem!