Rain
Insane, the rain
washing down
my window.
Insanity of raindrops
mixing, matching,
their Van Gogh
rainbow colors,
no artist’s eye
to select them,
just a false ear,
tin drum
to their sound.
They blur blossoms,
twist tree and bush,
water censers now
those branch ends
bending beneath
water’s weight.
Unseen, the island now,
nor visible the bay
beneath cloud blankets
wrapping them away.
rogermoorepoet 
Beautiful imagination about Van Gogh n his colours with black blanket clouds in dt rainy day.amazing dear moor!!.
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Van Gogh is amazing: to mention him is to open up a whole spectrum of other meanings. Thank you for being here, Aruna.
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Welcome dear roger!!u r true about Van Gogh.
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Beautiful imagery, Roger! I felt like I was sitting outside in the storm…
or trying to drive through it.
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I too felt the same
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Thanks, Tanya. I wrote it on my front porch this morning, based on an earlier poem from down in Fundy. I’m glad you liked it.
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I did. I am still trying to catch up on things around here. It was wonderful to wake up and read a few of your pieces.
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Catch up: I feel as though I have lost a part of my life and I am still running round looking for it. I guess I’ll catch up with it at some stage. I hope it still recognizes me when that happens.
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Lol…
You captured that reality nicely!
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Wrote a poem about it too. Hope you like it.
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