the storm

every where
was
soaked
dripping
shining
after
the rain
stopped
the wind
arose
imperceptibly
almost

mummy
the sun
has
come out

splish
splashingly
bright
but
you knew
o yes
you
knew
and wished
that
you didn't

that
noise
starting
in the tree tops
slowly
gradually
bending them
in generations
of supplication
the fuschia
bend
as if
before God
the hustling
bustling grass
seeking to be
but ne'er
overlooked
then
the quiet
the quietude
of silence
of waiting
and then
it starts
again

mummy
let's play

skit
scuttering
clouds
luminous
sun
blinding
then
black

come in,
my love
the storm
is gathering
and we know
not when
'twill
break

shutter the
windows
bar
the door
for it
will pass
with
or
without
us



Poetry by Peter Humphreys
Read 665 times
Written on 2007-08-20 at 17:32

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Rob Graber
Such a sense of foreboding in this... Fine job!
2007-08-20


Amanda K
interesting write.


regards,
2007-08-20