let all the smoke out
the burning of sticks
wafting the deadly spell
an acrid stench lingers
breathe in the fresh scent
of the coming rain
clouds rolling over head
threatening a promise
to thirsty plains
pleading
just a drop
to quench
rain
Just Once
I hate the rain
And always have
The way the chill settles
Thickly in the air
The way the raindrops
Become needles on my skin
Poking and prodding me
Into a horrible submission…
I hate the clouds that
Come with the rain
The way they block the sun
From lighting my face
The way gloom swarms from
The darkened world
Holding and suppressing
Anything that brings a smile…
I hate how the clouds
Rumble together at night
The way tears of angels fall
From the shielded skies
The way they soak us through
Clinging to our clothes
Freezing and tugging down
Yet somehow soothing and soft…
Dropping the brolly,
We hold each other close
And for one fleeting instant
I love the rain
—
Taken from my Cambridge days
dissatisfied storms
rain drops on leaves
toes stinging cold
walking through fast
trying to skate
over fallen puddles
hands dangle numb
grip them tight
in dehydrating air
biting with frozen teeth
especially in a breeze
thunder can’t rattle
lightning never lights
the darkened skies
clouds to cover
and umbrellas hold
dissatisfied storms
or a bout of autumn
turning to winter
the bridge
Rain falls
on all sides of me
as I linger
on the edge.
Drip.
Sweat beads
on my brow. Not nerves,
but relief. With no one
and nothing left, I glance below.
Drip.
The blue chasm
swallows all.
Stretching my arms wide,
I welcome the pour.
One last tear falls.
Drop.
Kisses in the Rain
You gave me kisses in the rain
Those sweet September mornings where
It felt like no one else was there
Now that you’re going away
There’s nowhere for me to stay
Thought that I didn’t love you
Boy, I guess that I was wrong
We’ll have to keep going strong
—
At the request of Peter … this is part of the song that I wrote when I was 10. I can’t remember the first verse and now it’s driving me crazy!
can’t forget the rain
I still hear the rain dripping onto my roof.
We’re in the middle of a drought.
The aroma of spring rain lingers around me.
The air is so dry my skin parches.
My cheeks feel the rain drops still.
My tongue yearns to catch them falling,
remembering ever so vividly their light impact.
But the sun is out.
It hasn’t rained in months,
no clouds have even hinted
and yet all I can think about is the rain
filling every pore of me.
The thing is … I don’t really like rain.
I don’t see the fascination,
but the thought of it won’t leave me alone.
Those few good memories with rain remain.
I can savor the sun all I want…
that still doesn’t stop me from wanting
the rain to return and sweep me off my feet.
where’s the rain?
The clouds have rolled in
Grey and dark
Lingering above my head
I’m not afraid of the downpour
that is sure to happen.
Though I expect the rain to fall,
Nothing breaks through to the earth
From the looming clouds
So where’s the rain?
Why doesn’t it fall like it should?
It’s supposed to follow the clouds
That mask the beautiful blue skies…
Where’s the rain?