Poetry Blogs (wet)
After The Storm
Not long after the downpour,
steam dragged itself
from the sheen of cobbles
in an effort to reach
the tiny rainbows
bouncing for the sun.
There was a wet smell in the air,
like the heaving body of a wolf
dying on a riverbank,
choking on its own blood
after the arrow
had pierced its throat.
The deep rumble of thunder
Friday 4th August 2017 7:36 pm
The rain has fallen down for twenty hours
from a dead sky of slate and granite hews,
dampening the walls of urban towers.
Cobbled streets the colour of an old bruise,
tyres rattle over pothole dark drains,
counterpoint to some distant splashing shoes.
The day cast in monochromatic stains
as water forms itself into a lake
that eddies into inner city lanes.
A passing car cre...
Tuesday 25th November 2014 7:13 pm
Falling rain the colour of steel, cast down by the wind blown clouds.
Count the drops in the million, a never-ending torrent drowning the land,
better stay indoors or you’re in for a swim.
See it beat upon your window like a madmen with a drum,
the power of nature in all her ragged glory.
Tuesday 3rd July 2012 6:59 pm
I hear the clouds form into a foul storm,
Outdoors soaking into an endless Ocean,
I’m smoking as the blessed showers pour,
There will be no stepping out the door,
Forever more, dryer than ever before.
Tuesday 27th December 2011 12:34 am
Another quick one, needs work...
Tuesday 17th May 2011 3:07 pm