Summer rain – a trimeter for Frank

The rain comes down in rods,
In sheets, in cats and dogs,
We sit and watch the day
Dissolve, get washed away.

Like maidens in a tower
Beseiged by men of power
Dark arrows from the sky
Keep us at home, and dry

And all the dripping leaves
The darkly clouded trees,
The raindrops on the glass,
The mud be-spattered grass

Are things that give rain joy,
She treats them as a toy –
She’d play with us, no doubt,
If we went running out

And jumped and danced in mud
And laughed at the small flood
That tumbles down the lane
And sings a song of rain.

 

Te TUM te TUM te TUM. A trimeter for Frank, who is hosting MTB at dVerse. For my American readers – this is what happens in England in the summer. Ah, well, we make the most of it. In fact, when I went to tag this, “summer rain” was already a tag, so it’s obviously a common theme for me!

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Early morning – minute poem for dVerse

Days when I walk in the garden,
Early morning,
When the dew clings
To all green things,

Before the sun climbs up too high,
Burning the sky,
When each leaf glows,
Each flower grows,

Then I am open to the world,
My soul unfurled,
And I glow too,
And I grow new.

 

Frank is minding the bar at dVerse tonight. He’s asked us to write a minute poem – 60 syllables, arranged 844 x 3, with an aabb rhyme scheme. Frank is a bit of a king of forms, so he’s setting the bar high.