On nights like these

Half of the world is asleep

And black bellied clouds rest upon the mountains

Sending rain to punish my roof

While heaven complains against the ebony night

Shadows dark as evil sprawl beneath the trees

And lovers laugh, dodging puddles as they run

 

Gutters gush, gargling the torrent

As half of the world is asleep on rumpled beds

While creatures watch from boughs and burrows

The sycamore slumps beneath the storm

Where a hawk is stranded on a sheltered limb

And streams and brooks boast beyond their bends

 

The scene is solemn beyond the window

Where rivulets slide, blending into each other like lovers

A glaring bolt slides over the peaks, through the clouds

And the clouds complain about it a moment after

As half of the world is asleep, but not me

I have too much forgetting to do about nights like these

 

Reviews

[.........]

I am shocked that this has only gotten five reviews. Out of all I've seen of your writing, it is my favorite. "Black bellied clouds" is an amazing term; "rain to punish my roof" is also profound; heaven complains against this ebony night". Your perception of this atmosphere is just phenomenally written.
I love this line: "as half of the world is asleep, but not me. I have too much forgetting to do about nights like this." but, i feel like if you just changed the last word "this" to "these", it would flow so much more and the ending would have a bit more of a pang to it to finish off an amazing write. Just my opinion.
Other than that, I like the underlying emotion for this poem. It has a feeling of "right now, I'm describing the atmosphere- you dont need to know me" feeling. Like, you are talking about how this is complaining and that is complaining. All of these sorrowful things are around and you're describing them. But yet you have so much more to you as the author. "I have too much forgetting to do"...Wow, I'm definitely spoken to.

[DrD]

I would be sufficiently grateful if you had read my work but your praise overwhelms me and I offer a most sincere gratitude.

[Sid]

Nicely done Dr. you have this great way with words and you can make us feel what you feel with your words and that is a greatness I bow to...great work!!

[DrD]

Thank you, Sid. You are always appreciated.

[MachinaWriter]

There's something about your style that gives me goosebumps, and always with wonderful conclusions. I used the comparison of the final strum of a cello before and it rings true with this poem. I know this feeling, and it strikes me to the core of my soul. "I have too much forgetting to do about nights like this" was such a powerful line. And the word usage in this poem is fantastic. Rivulets sliding into each other like the blending of lovers, glaring bolts over peaks, gargling, gushing gutters and torrents, rumpled beds, sycamores slumping beneath storms. So many wonderful images in here, its hard to keep count of lol Once again, I loved this poem.

[DrD]

I'm happy that you found something in this work, Mechina

[Patrick]

you manage to take the reader with you so that they see what you see and feel what you feel...i really enjoyed reading this so much so i may well read over it again

[DrD]

P.J., thanks for your comment. I don't remember seeing you here before but I do hope you'll come again and read some others of my work.

[Patrick]

Ive been here for a while but tend to be on and off depending on whats happening in life etc

[Cryingkate]

DOC , Do you mean that after you capture them you really release them? With or without ransom?

[Marie]

Great imagry...some people sleep well during storms...and some have too much to think about...

[DrD]

Thanks for your visit, Marie

[J. J. Nightingale]

I remember dodging puddles, and a rumpled bed ..
And about one hundred other things that never seemed to matter, then ..
Backdrops of a lifetime .. always come home at night .

There you go reminding me of bliss , once more

I like .. xx J.

[DrD]

It's a good experience, J.

[J. J. Nightingale]

xx J.