So Many Rains
We're trained to be haters of rain.
Want of sunshine is the fashion.
We may complain of any old rain.
When less than bleached, we know
that clouds are made of fluffy sadness.
We aren't in the profession of making hay…
even when the sun is shining.
Yet the sun IS there, even during a torrent.
We can enjoy misty rain, sideways rain,
cats and dogs rain, splashing rain,
soaking rain, rainbow rain, sprinkle, drizzle, and freezing.
We may not wish to enjoy the variations of rain.
We're averse to it, add curse to it,
and do apply a nursery verse, 'Come again, some other…' to it.
Didn't everyone say that they wanted it to go away?
Be a Gene Kelly. He was so swell, he danced with his umbrell…
he taught us. But did we learn?
Rain may not be convenient,
It may even flood your home.
Though usually it's quiet, meditative and thoughtful
enough to allow us a nap.
Replace that childish rhyme with a snooze.
You cannot lose, if you simply
listen to the characters that plink
(outside of your sink)
Brent E. Engle
West Liberty, KY
One By One
The arms of the Oak
Are gathering snowflakes
Like a person gathers memories . . .
One by one.
The bushes seem to have
Footprints in the Snow
I love to walk in new-fallen snow
where the footprints are only mine.
To be alone in this wintry realm,
brings peace of heart with joy divine.
Gnarled dark trees bedecked with snow
stand bleak against graying skies.
Stark branches gleam with icy rime,
from lofty perch, a lone raven cries.
Peace pervades this tranquil place
where, here, I commune with God.
I love to walk in pristine snow…
where no one else has trod.
New Boston, Ohio