Tuesday, November 27, 2012




Rain is sweet and gentle
When it falls upon the earth.
When the soil is dry and lifeless
Rain brings new life to birth.
We could not live without it;
We welcome its gentle  touch,
But oh what a different story
When the sky sends down too much!
Crops are drowned in silver ,
Rivers break their banks;
We race away from the element
For which we once gave thanks.
Destructive, horrifying,
Dealing death along the way.
Something sweet or terrible........
Another rainy day.


The colour trumpets brilliance;
The shades make us alert. 
Sometimes it is so vivid
That it almost seems to hurt.
Restful? I hardly think so!
Soporific? This I doubt.
How can ones spirit whisper
When surroundings seem to shout?
Ah, but think about 'cosy',
Think again about 'snug',
The warmth of the colour orange
Is something like a hug.
And, then, consider waking
In an orange-coloured room.
When the curtains and the covers
Seem to drive away the gloom.
Outside it may be raining
The skies may be dark grey
But a bedroom splashed with orange
Creates a sunny day.

1 comment:

Old Egg said...

Mankind has this problem of building close to water assuming that all will be well, but often it turns out all will be wet.

Slipping into that orange bed on a hot night may a bit of a test!

Your poems are always great entertainment.