May ShowersBy Don Iannone
Fresh rain
...innocent as a baby's smile.
Falling
...like feathers of a dove
...from the sky.
Drumming drops
...lull me to sleep, where dreams
of a sweet sunny cloverfield
fill my head.
Fresh rain
...purifying crystals
...holding the future
...tell stories
...remaining secrets no more.
Another one!
ReplyDeleteYep, when it rains it pours, Dan!
ReplyDeletevery nice verse, I like your style.
ReplyDeleteReminds me a little of WCWilliams.
Sometimes I feel in the back of my mind, that the rain has never stopped, and I like that feeling. There is a reassurance to it, a future to it, like you picture in the words. It comforts me on hot and dusty days, It waters my Soul in my heart.
ReplyDeleteThanks Kevin. I enjoyed reading your NR chapbook. Nice job! I happen to like WC Wallace's style.
ReplyDeleteJim, Wonderful thoughts. Thanks for stopping by. It is another rainy day in Cleveland. That's what happens when a city emulates Portland--I guess.
ReplyDeleteWell Kathy...I'd gladly trade some rain for sunshine. Thanks for dropping by.
ReplyDelete