Sunday Rain

Sunday, and the rain falls
continuously,
puddles forming
in between the rough cobbles.
Up in her apartment
Madame stares gloomily
out on to her balcony
watching her flowers
beaten by rain

She listens to music
that played from her past
and taking the broom
her escort
round the room
as into her eyes
his face floats on by
that smile to enchant
all gone, by and by.

A ring on her finger
he promised to buy
instead of the lingerie
in satins and silks
yet the rain plays
an accompaniment
and a smile
plays a tune
she'll dance in the twilight
just her
and her broom




Poetry by Elle The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 807 times
Written on 2014-03-22 at 14:27

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I love the feelings this poem evokes. The music that the reader can imagine, soft and nostalgic, like a French ballad. The woman, sad and melancholic. The imagery is beautiful. You do have a gift for painting a scene with words. :)
2014-03-27


Peter Humphreys The PoetBay support member heart!
Deep in the recesses of my mind, this conjured up images of past sadness as your heroine dances in an upper apartment in France, lost in music and lost promises. You can see her in black and white, listening to Edith Piaf on the radio. Magical writing. Peter
2014-03-26


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
You imagery always is so vivid, cinematic. Here, we have the first scene, rain on the cobblestones. We cut to the second, Madame in her apartment, looking through the streaked glass, and then taking the broom and dancing with it.
2014-03-23


F.i.in.e Moods The PoetBay support member heart!
So soft, so melancholic; felt myself drift in the moment... as always, so beautifully expressed.
2014-03-23


Rob Graber
This conjures an image simple, sad, and beautiful.
2014-03-22


countryfog
In a strange way I suppose I was reminded of how many musicians were inspired to write music based on poems - Mendelssohn by Goethe as just one example - and how your poems so often contain music, are musical in and of themselves, and are their own songs.
2014-03-22