All the ingredients are present to put me in an April paradise.
A distant rolling and rumbling
like horses galloping, calls from the clouds
The street blackens with cleansing drops
of light rain that preceeds the coming storm.
Wet, colors of tulips and daffodills are dramatically
exhibited against the background
of grey and black and rain-rich green.
Rain picks up its tempo
as louder and longer the thunder hoofs beat.
Sounds from the sky,
dripping, pouring, mumbling and roaring
play upon my ears like a lullaby
And my eyes want to close
And my body wants to go
to the couch and recline awhile
as the noonday choir sings is songs.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 603 times
Written on 2009-04-10 at 18:41
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Noonday In April
A Noonday in April the skys grow darkA distant rolling and rumbling
like horses galloping, calls from the clouds
The street blackens with cleansing drops
of light rain that preceeds the coming storm.
Wet, colors of tulips and daffodills are dramatically
exhibited against the background
of grey and black and rain-rich green.
Rain picks up its tempo
as louder and longer the thunder hoofs beat.
Sounds from the sky,
dripping, pouring, mumbling and roaring
play upon my ears like a lullaby
And my eyes want to close
And my body wants to go
to the couch and recline awhile
as the noonday choir sings is songs.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 603 times
Written on 2009-04-10 at 18:41
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
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