Rain Reigns

Hearing the music of the falling of the rain

washing, gurgling and echoing to the drain

A melody as he played with buttons in a tin,

a brass knuckle duster used once and never used again

Those musty hours from the age of five until school reigned

in his young life, the pleasure in the playing of a game

 

Warm British summers hiding in teashops from downpours

enjoying the release of petrichor rain particles that feed

the brain with dreams of hay. Camping at Hay-on-the-Wye,

sitting in his tent with a tin cup full of milky tea, listening

to the drumming of the falling of the rain.

 

That day in the Gold Coast waiting for his flight,

sitting on the veranda of the British ambassador’s

private residence, feted by his wife, watching the

gentle washing of the lawns and the tropical gardens

that eased the stresses of that thwarted day

 

With Em waiting for Mama, conversing in low tones so

as to not distract from the symphony and pictures

plummeting down the windscreen. She loved those intimate

moments, to have me all to herself, to speak to me of the mundane

 

It must be the pleasure of huddling up to each other

in a darkened way, sheltering safe whilst outside the

elements reign. That must be it, a lifetime’s pleasure

hiding, smelling and listening the falling of the rain.

Reviews

[blue cave]

Delightful Frank, what wonderful images. You might like to check out the piano piece Petricor by Ludovico Enaudi.

[Frank]

Hi Blue
So nice to see you again, glad you liked. I had forgotten this one, thanks for reminding me. I will post on my other forums. Ok I will write that down and try and find on Google.