Walking home in the pouring rain
I pondered on AI
And those who continue to maintain
The inevitability of progress.
The rain continued to fall.
Although I heard
No human word
Nature seemed to laugh
As I passed
Along the familiar churchyard path.
It is humid.
The forecast predicts thunder.
I long for cooling rain
And wonder
Whether the great Thor
Will roar
Or will the weather forecast
Be wrong again!
Sometimes I wish the rain
Would not cease.
It quiets my heated brain.
But the rain
Will cease. And I yearn for the peace
Of the steady drip, drip, drip of rain
To return again
And cool my heated brain.
A poet entranced
By branches that dance
In summertime.
Lost in rhyme
he walks the same
Woodland path
After sweet rain.
Nature laughs
As branches pour
Forth their store
Of sweet summer rain
There is deep mud
In the park again.
As I wade through flood
I sigh
And cudgel my poor brain
To explain
Why we poets romanticise
This thing called rain!
I have long been a lover of the rain. It refreshes hot dirty streets and reinvigorates the seemingly dead vegetation.
The below poem came to me as I lay in bed listening to the rain drumming on my window pane. It can be found in my “Selected Poems”, https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WW8WXPP/.
out into the rain I dash.
A flash
Of lightening.
The sky, for a moment brightening
And me wondering
Whether I will survive the thundering
As my guide dog’s harness is part steel,
So its really not ideal …
—
My guide dog needed to pay a call of nature earlier this evening. While I was aware of the rain, I was not cognisant of the storm which suddenly broke overhead. Had I been aware, I certainly would have remained safely indoors! As it was, all ended well.
The wind, in the city
Blows on our pretty
Baubles. And on thee
And me.
And seems to say,
“Baubles and thee
Will pass away.
But I will stay
And laugh
At lad and lass
Who, in the joy of romance
Drink and dance
And Think
They will remain, forever young.
The poet’s tongue
Will into silence go.
While I (the weather)
Will forever
Remain
In wind, and snow,
And rain.
This cold, sunny day
Will turn to rain.
I will stay,
For a time.
And rhyme,
While nature will remain
Sitting here, in my dressing gown
I frown
At the dull sky.
Perhaps there is nothing to say
On this rainy winter’s day.
K Morris - Poet 