Dull roots, unripe fruits

Puddle dust, feet in socks

Faces grease in anticipation

Grasses sink into mounds, earth in grey

The world is dead silence, summer is jealous of its death


The Rain

Flood is roaring near

The sleeping brow groans in its slumber

There’s tumult in the sky


The Rain

It slashes leaves, apricots, canes, trees

And doubly drums sounds of

chaotic thundering and uproar lightening


Structures shingle, beats and bends awry

Flowers heads-down, souls in fear

Spring is longed for; how I dare wish to enter

but winter door shuts on my face

Like termites driven out by a collapsed anthill


The Rain

This takes too long to heal

This isn’t pleasant, unannounced

When can we manage another season without Rain

Hearts in anticipation.

Written to meet the Bar in dVerse where we were asked to write one condition or the other on drought or an over-abundance of water/rain.


18 thoughts on “THE RAIN

  1. Oh.. water and dry..
    what a blessing or nigh..
    streAms.. creeks.. rivers..
    bays.. gulfs.. seas.. ocean
    wHole.. drift.. breeze.. winds
    gale.. storms thunderous hoard
    of pouRinG water
    thE eyes
    of wind chime
    eyes that kNow
    no respite of
    gull wings
    soar.. humans
    cower at sign
    of more.. birds
    fly higher as Seagull
    eYes KnoW no fear of change..:)

    Hi.. rhythaephua..
    i’ thOught i’d
    pass wiTh
    a comment
    to juSt
    say hi2…
    Hope the drOught
    ends and deluge of creativity stays..
    in rain or reins of reign whatever comes..:)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. An impressive poem, indeed–terrific word-smithing–giving rain an almost mythical status; excellent read–my fave out on the trail today–love the line /the world is dead silence, summer is jealous of its death/.

    Liked by 1 person

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