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.
Beautiful imagination about Van Gogh n his colours with black blanket clouds in dt rainy day.amazing dear moor!!.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Van Gogh is amazing: to mention him is to open up a whole spectrum of other meanings. Thank you for being here, Aruna.
LikeLike
Welcome dear roger!!u r true about Van Gogh.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful imagery, Roger! I felt like I was sitting outside in the storm…
or trying to drive through it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I too felt the same
LikeLiked by 2 people
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
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.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lol…
You captured that reality nicely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Wrote a poem about it too. Hope you like it.
LikeLiked by 1 person