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Spell of Rain
| Open Poetry #15 |
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Spell of Rain |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion 
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Spell of Rain It’s late in the season, and as I drive from flatlands to hills, the surrounding brush is so brittle I can hear it crackle. It has become sleeping fuel, ready to combust with the tiniest spark of encouragement. The ground is so dry, I itch. I want to scrub the grass from my skin, shower it in hard rain until new layers rise from beneath, baby-soft and verdant. I don’t want to greet smoke as an enemy in my camp, or breathe that bitter stench or watch ash fall like snow from an orangey sky. I want to remember rain. © 2001 Corinne Bailey |
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| © Copyright 2001 Corinne - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Irish Rose Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263 |
me too, Corinne, and I AM ready to burst with the slightest bit of encouragement....lots to write and lots to say and lots to feel. |
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serenity blaze Member Empyrean
since 2000-02-02
Posts 27738 |
You made it easy to imagine, although here in the swamplands we do not have that problem. But your descriptions were so accurate that I find myself reaching for the Jergen's...good to read you again, Corinne!!! |
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RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
This is quite good. The sounds are excellent. Well done, poet. |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion |
Thank you kindly, Kathleen, Serenity and Bob. Corinne |
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