We have been suffering from drought conditions for four years out here in the West, while the East coast seems to be drowning in too much water. At first people took the dry spell lightly thinking it would be soon over and the rains would return. But as each month went by with no rain, and sometimes rain at odd times, people began to be concerned and eventually we had water rationing to contend with.
Then one morning in 2012, my mind thought of a poem while I listened to the rain out my bedroom window. I posted it on FB and received a bit of encouragement about writing a poem. After that I couldn't seem to stop rhyming words, and the longer the drought hung on, the more aware I became of rain and continued to write little poems.
I am certainly not very accomplished with this new poetry craze, but it is amazing to me that I can think of poems. As a child, I couldn't write more than a "Roses are Red" poem, but I remember my father used to write poems and stories, so maybe a little rubbed off on me.
LITTLE POEMS ABOUT RAIN DURING A DROUGHT
Nov. 30, 2012
Rain, Rain, Comin'down--
Photo Class is cancelled downtown.
Later I'll take pictures instread.
Now's a good day to stay in bed.
This poem was written at the cabin: December 2012:
Rain, Rain falling gently
Soaking the earth and all its plenty,
Melting the snow that fell before,
Where are the winters I remember of yore.
At the cabin--January 2013
Wind in the willows; wind in the trees,
Whirling, twirling puffs of breeze.
Moans and Groans--from Pines in pain.
Whenever are we going to get some rain.
Cabin--May 28, 2013
It's the beginning of summer
And the rains were here.
It's like deja vu.
It happened last year.
Home: June 24, 2013
It's summertime, and down it came--
This wet, dewy, damp, cold rain.
Out my streaky window is misty gloom.
But it's warm inside my cozy room.
Thinking of words that describe Rain:
restful, relinguishing, replenishing, rejuvenating, recurring, relishing, renduring, recycling,
reflecting.
Rain--Restful, relaxing, rejuvenating
And here so seldom.
But relinguishing, replenishing, and recurring,
And so very welcome.
Home: January 9, 2014
Is that a ghost I hear wailing in the night?
But it brings me comfort instead of giving fright.
The cold moist air that covers the earth like a shroud,
Brings life back to the dry parched ground.
This poem surfaced while taking a shower after seeing a photo of the city on Facebook:
January 20, 2014:
Beautiful City. Beautiful Skies.
All of this beauty is a bane in disguise.
Where is the rain that soaks the ground,
Nurturing all, so life will abound.
Home--Listening to the Rain on my window: February 2, 2014
Pitter Patter, Pitter Patter--
It's music to my ears.
Whooshy washy, whooshy washy,
I want to give some cheers.
Dribbly Droplet, dribbly droplet,
on the window pane.
Hooray and Alleluia--
I'm thankful for the rain.
Home February 26, 2014--On a rainy day.
The grey blanketed sky above,
I really don't mind.
It brings peace and comfort to my soul,
I find.
The misty rain has kept me home
and inside.
Where I feel so content
and very satisfied.
As the days moved on, and summer came when it hardly ever rains, I seemed to have
moved on to other worries and concerns, and somewhat numb to the drought conditions.
Now we all hope for El Nino this winter, but maybe in vain.
