The sound of falling fine rain is magical to me. Today is the second time in my adult life that it reminds me...


The Rain? It stays.

I'm hearing rain again.

A million tiny droplets
falling
on a million tiny leaves
unfurling,
slowly, in my world -
as Earth
unerringly spins
towards
a Spring of sorts.


This rain is heard,
soft
like a lover's caress,
as I stand marvelling
again
how it takes me back
in time
to lips, and breasts,
and thighs;
to kisses,
nips, and sighs
in a magical woody
byway -
lost now as Time
decrees;
as aged bones
and withered
skin
deny wild youthful adulation;
'sin'.

It takes me far away
from Summer showers and
magical
clear blue skies
above two lovers
entwined
in grassy bowers;
or tangled in white sheets
hurled
aside to grant us greater lust,
to open us to cooler air
and all the flesh
exposed
right there.

But the rain. It stays
dampening
any expectation of
repeating
unassailed affection
of
the lusty kind.
Just giving me the sound
of white noise
perhaps
to send me off to sleep.


© Griffonner 2022




Poetry by Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 71 times
Written on 2022-02-04 at 13:03

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MetaPoetics The PoetBay support member heart!
Beautiful indeed. It's both sensual and dream-like, which I adore. And I think the short, snappy lines works to establish the rhythm of the rain in the poem. Nicely done!
2022-02-13


D G Moody The PoetBay support member heart!
I liked the way the sound of rain evoked old memories: sad and sweet ones; and as always Allen, a pleasure to read

Dougie
2022-02-06


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
I like this a great deal, Allen. The rain rekindles old notions, then quietly dashes them.
2022-02-04