Where is the rain that they promised?
The Sun is now shining on me;
I wanted to get wet to the skin,
like the fishes that swim in the sea.
Where is the rain that they promised?
The Sun is now shining on me;
I wanted to get wet to the skin,
like the fishes that swim in the sea.
We went out walking,
and we got wet;
then, the Sun came out,
and, yet…
I had to cry out
(It was almost a shout,
into the sky)
‘Where is my Rainbow?”
It wasn’t there…
why?
Who likes to watch the rain cascade
for day upon days upon weeks?
Who is there out there
that a hint of Sunshine seeks?
I’ve been out today,
and what can I say?
Apart from, ‘Do we have enough dry towels?’
The rain had been,
and was on its way back,
the Sun shone briefly, somewhere,
and a Rainbow was birthed.
And I could see ‘both’ ends,
one in a field to my left,
one in a field, ahead, and to the right;
they were both, in one turn of the head,
within my sight.
But, which to chase,
and would there be gold to find,
the possibilities traversed my mind;
and, at that moment,
the Sun lost its view,
and the rain blew into my face,
and washed the rainbow away.
I stood there speechless,
there was nothing left,
to say.
Posted in Poetry
Tagged #PoemForADayDecember, #poetry. #poem, #Rainbow, #Sun, Rain, weather
I sometimes wish
that Cold & Wet
had never met;
but, they did,
and still often keep in touch.
Cold is okay,
has things to say,
but you can deal with
Cold in a sensible way.
Wet is a nightmare,
gets inside your brain
before it all washes away
and flows off down the drain.
If you’d met Dry & Warm,
their cousins,
you’d like them much better;
but, here, shivering, and moist, on the brink,
it’s of Cold Colder & Wet Wetter
I am tending to think.
There was rain,
then sun,
but, rainbows, none.
I wrote a little poem about it,
this is the one.
“Rain is a four-letter word.”
I say that,
firstly, because it is,
but, secondly (and most importantly)
because I (and the doggoes)
were drenched this morning,
whilst upon our walk.
Soggy doggoes,
and a very damp me,
were not how
we wanted to be.
But, we have returned home,
and dried off,
as best we can –
now we are
two warming-up doggoes,
and a less soaking man.
It’s a lovely day
It’s a lovely day
for someone
but not me;
it’s raining on my head
and blowing a hooley;
I’m sure that I can see
that it’s a lovely day
for someone
but not me.
It’s a lovely day
somewhere
but not here;
It’s hailstorms, rain, and thunder
causing fear;
and I’m hearing in my ear,
that it’s a lovely day
somewhere
but not here.
The lights went out,
as we left Cornwall,
never to be lit again,
unless we returned to the land
of Cornish rain.
We sat in the café
and watched the rainbow guy;
when the rain had gone
the sun shone,
and we were warmed inside.