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Pilgrimage
Member Elite

since 2001-12-04

Posts 3945
Texas, USA

0 posted 2004-04-05 08:35 PM

Early Afternoon

A cool breeze sails across the plains
to bring a scent that whispers 'rain'.
The trees bow to a sudden blow,
I scan the sky through shaking panes.

As clouds pile up in sulfur rows
and hoard their gifts like treasure troves
a spot lands on the glass and then
a splat, a splash, a stream.  It grows.

A sodden scene whipped by the wind,
a driven blast like dreams of sin
within a virgin's aching breast.
Then all at once, the hail begins.

A pebbled surf, a frozen crest
on flowered seas, a madman's jest.
The ice-gods laugh and toss their bits
of heaven-stuff.  Do we feel blest?

The old elm grits his twigs and sits
through Mother Nature's temper-fits.
Unmoved by loss of leaves and limbs,
he grabs his roots and never quits.

The thunder softens.  Muffled hymns
sung by a choir of broken stems,
with wounded-daffodil refrain,
drifts through a dusk that grays and dims.

Nan (Pilgrim variety)

BluesSerenade
Member Patricius

since 2001-10-23

Posts 10549
By the Seaside

1 posted 2004-04-05 08:55 PM

The old elm grits his twigs and sits
through Mother Nature's temper-fits.
Unmoved by loss of leaves and limbs,
he grabs his roots and never quits

Well this is quite an afternoon delight,
and just what I needed.

Loved your message, and the visuals~

Sadelite
Member Elite

since 2003-10-11

Posts 2519

2 posted 2004-04-05 09:12 PM

The old elm grits his twigs and sits
through Mother Nature's temper-fits.
Unmoved by loss of leaves and limbs,
he grabs his roots and never quits.

Nice... I especially enjoyed this part.
Sadie

passing shadows
Member Empyrean

since 1999-08-26

Posts 45577
displaced