Our Rain
Waking......
to the patter of rain drops,
gentle,
welcomed....
their debut
early in the season,
doucement,
like the touch of newly hatched chooks,
stroking the imaginary cheeks
of earth creatures,
buzzing insects,
and man.
Hearing.....
above the echo from roofs,
mad of tin,
corrugated
and of musical persuasion,
a drummer's world,
now and then,
when the gods speak openly,
and the angels need to cry.
Soothing.....
melodies drifting,
allegro to andante,
kisses,
whispers
bringing the big wet,
and the fields groan
under the ballast,
frogs commence their own,
an orchestra of monotone,
persistent,
tireless,
until the time
when morning breaks.
Frowning.....
his hand reaching,
there is smoothness,
a pillow
untouched,
perhaps forgotten
and renewed,
in foreign shops,
placed boldly,
casually,
askew,
in thatched roof homes,
cold sneaks,
through sills,
unpainted shutters.....
settling once again
where love's own memories
spread out,
like broken glass,
rough-edged
with its menacing glitter,
have been waiting,
in a seemingly vain hope,
to be recalled
and,
once again
to breathe,
to inhale
the pheromones of
a forget-me-not time.
Very good and quite original. I appreciate the different takes on rain here. Recommended.
A love-lilt of finest order and styled as a flowing song I loved every line.