The Rains of Ole

Memories of the joy of walking in the rain

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The Rain of ole

 

It was the days of past, that I chose to walk

the lengthy trails

that were painted by droplets

caught in a rain soaked pale.

 

Each exploding expansion

of warm churned mist

re-energized the sense of being

as it washed away, sealed and kissed.

 

Always playing that silly game

“dodging rain drops” in the pouring rain,

hopes to avoid,  drenching one’s clothes,

what a game, quite insane.

 

Staring at the droplet

crashing down on one’s face,

with thoughts to hide the mystic tears

flowing pass,  in hopes to erase

 

Through all the water that is pouring down

Still Desperately wait for the clashing sound

Concealing a masculine whimper

in the quiet’s of the wind

oh so cleaver, oh how profound…

 

Walking in the rain with one of rare beauty

was always wonderful, stimulating, and wild

courting each other, down the street

the memories are always beguiled

 

Never afraid to touch,

kiss

or love

with the magic

that was generated by

the wonders of above…

 

the therapeutic rain,

as it pours until it steams

immeasurable

from endless means.,,

 

So let the rain

encompass our souls;

whether day or night,

no longer shall one grow old

 

never fear what one does not have,

…dare to reminisce

To floating along the river

for once, for eternity, with the absence of a kiss

 

Oh how I miss the rain of ole…

Author's Note

it was a silly game to dodge rain drops but it was fun...I always lost

Reviews

[Nik Dendera]

Kind of remined me of 'Forever Autumn' by Justin Hayward. "A gentle rain falls softly on my weary eyes. As if to hide a lonely tear."

Nice piece, very simple in idea, yet a moving piece.

Great work!

[Wildfleour]

Well, you won here. This was sweet.

[Dani California]

As I stare at the droplet crashing on my face, I hope to hide my mystic tears while I desperately wait for the thunder to crash and conceal my masculine whimpers of pain.

I loved this piece. The entire write is fantastic. Wonderful imagery... flow.

Awesome!

[James Takeo Panton]

I am very much enjoying how you are using diferent scripts for your pieces, keep up the trend....

[Clouded in Hopeful Illu..]

This is a very sweet story. I love how you always try to dodge the rain drops. As kids, my brother and sisters and I always use to do that. That was before life started to change for us. This is very emotional and can show many how to wash away their fears. Thank you for sharing.

"being and washes" --- Drop the es and just try wash. It would sound better.

"thunder to crash to conceal my" --- Try "thunder to crash and conceal my"

[Deborah Shepard]

your work is phenomenal

[None]

Perhaps it is me, and I am reading too much into this, but I perceived your poem as more than just about a game of playing in the rain. And I did this, only because you mention your "mystic tears" and your "masculine whimpers" as if your reason for being in the rain is to be refreshed or reborn ("re-energized") from something else, like doubt. From where is the doubt?
Then further stanza speaks of the "woman of rare beauty" with whom you had courted. Your use of past tense, "courted", rather than present tense, seems to say that this love and rare beauty woman is no more. But that while you were together you frolicked, never afraid to fall completely into that magic you experienced together. This was when the rain was a "therapeutic rain." Perhaps the "love of once for eternity" was doubted?
You end the poem with how you miss that "rain of ole," perhaps it is the therapeutic rain you miss, and in the present the rain is sought in attempts to re-energize what was once had.
I hope I haven't offended, for I do not intend to, this is what I read in your very touching and lovely poem. A sense of loss and nostalgia, but without regret. I rather liked it.

[Beautifully Tragic xPoe..]

I remember as a little girl, playing in the rain all the time. One of my biggest dreams was to be a meteorologist (weather). Old memories come back reading this piece.

Great write, beautifully penned.

[joshua rainbird]

I enjoyed reflecting on similar memories when reading this.

The second stanza reminds me of my favourite kind of weather and it's very rare (only twice in my lifetime) and that's when the rain falls on a very hot pavement and immediately evaporates; you end up walking in steam. That said the 'exploding expansion of warm' is tricky for two reasons: that explosion and expansion conjure similar images and so seems overstated; and, the word 'warm' seems weak, immediately after those other words, 'warm' thus dampens down the cresecendo.

I really like that phrase 'masculine whimpers'. It seems to be an incongruous statement at first and yet it has an endearing honesty. But I'd trim off the 'of pain', as this is sandwiching the impact of the word 'whimpers'.

The thing that isn't working in this poem is in the fifth stanza - at heart this a very personal poem and yet it becomes very formal at this point. Not the 'wild' you're informing us of. The parts I would reconsider are: 'courted'; 'always wonderful' and 'woman of rare beauty'. The passion that is obvious in the rest of the poem seems to lull here and at a point where you would expect it to be at its peak.

The great strength of this poem is how you generate a sense of passing time as you take us through a lifetime of enjoying the same weather but in different contexts.

Best wishes
josh

Very descriptive and nostalgic. A good read.