All through that night
And into the following day
It rained.We tried to shelter
In the lee of trees
By the crossroads
Where we used to play -
Fine at first
The droplets grew,
Plothering from oak leaves
Under that leaden sky
Till sodden the verges
And the old road
Be-puddled
Muttering rivulets
Flowed down Harrison's Hill
Gurgling to gutters
Replete with water
While wet as fish
We splashed home
In the endless rain,
The endless
Rain.
8 comments:
Just says it all, YP!
I feel soggy. Soaked. Drenched, even.
I have a short rain poem myself
RAIN......
PISS OFF!!!!!!
First drafts and failed poems about rain:
The rain comes in on little cat feet. (Carl Sandburg)
...And then the rain with pleasure fills, and dances with the daffodils. (William Wordsworth)
Oh, how I love to go out in the rain, out in the rain so grey. (Robert Louis Stevenson)
How do I love the rain? Let me count the ways.... (Elizabeth Barrett Browning)
What wet through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the rain. (William Shakespeare, or maybe it was Christopher Marlowe)
Flower in the puddled rain, I pluck you out of the puddles. (Alfred, Lord Tennyson)
Hail to thee, blithe raindrop! Dry thou never wert. (Percy Bysshe Shelley)
I got a milllion of 'em.
JENNY Yeah - June's weather so far has felt that way.
RHYMES WITH PLAGUE Thanks for all those familiar quotes. Sure you didn't change a few words? Thanks for a little Georgia sunshine amidst the rain.
EARL GRAY Your poem is too subtle for me. I don't quite understand the meaning you were trying to convey.
Here's my mini-poem for you.
"Soft milky sunshine,
On my shoulder
In the island winter."
Plothering! Ohhh YESSS! I am going to try to use it in every conversation about the weather from now on.
KATHERINE I thank you for those evocative ten words.
DAPHNE Will you even use "plothering" if we get another hot blue sky spell of proper summer?
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