Like liquid-drop
Spatter-rocks,
Debris thrown from
Heaven’s crater-cloud volcanoes
Spots of rain congeal briefly,
Congregate, coalesce and conga,
Running in temporary-fault,
Cold-blood strata-snakes down
My nervous evening windscreens.
I am heading for
Where the wolves play.
Adventures in the life of an English allotment
Original Nature + Culture Photojournalism
Garden Blog of the Year 2016
Welcome to my world: digging, harvesting and other stuff
for your family
The evolution of an old farmhouse, an American woman, an Englishman and their dogs.
If you could go anywhere you wanted, where would you be headed right now?
surfing my tsunami
blowing through the cobwebs of my mind
Just another WordPress.com weblog
Writing the Wrong, Right, and Ridiculous
Life after the Care Farm
The most Dangerous plant to sleep under is the water lilly
Local History for Great Wyrley and Surrounding Areas
Tales from the mouth of a wolf
introspection & reflection, poetry & prose
Posts about old Hollywood, current concerns
Gunn4
Wonderfull!It felt like a very passionate build up till the end!
I loved the last line, but I noticed it has 2 w instead of 1, just pointing out the typo 😀
Well spotted, appreciate the call: thanks.
I was waiting in my car on a pub car park. My friends were coming to pick me up. To take me to the football match. It was raining. We were playing against Wolverhampton Wanderers. They are known as “The Wolves”. Bit of a wait:
This poem was born.
Glad you liked it !
Thank you for sharing the story of your creation process! It is amazing how ones words can lead us into a milion different stories or dreams or sentiments and sometimes we find out first hand the words we read do not mean what we thought, I find this beautifull, when something has more then one dimension like this, it feels like an “I love you” being echoed forever.
Know what you mean …
and I am never sure whether explaining where the ideas came from (as I just did) is a good thing. I am quite happy for readers to develop their own ideas about why and what .
Hope I didn’t spoil the poem for you.
No, not at all, you just made it even more beautiful. I mean, I love the depth and possibilities, I am reading a beautiful poem, not a label on the back of a ketchup. Most proffessionals would disagree with me tho, I have been told that I am a bad poet because I always want to/need to explain my poems. I showed them the middle finger 😀
Smiling widely here, thank you for that, and for your support.
I liked all the alliteration and the unexpected conga! Sue
“Conga” ??
Yes indeed, trying to find a c starting verb for raindrops joining up and doing what they do an sloping glass, at the time couldn’t manage anything better than conga (but did consider “conger”).
Any suggestions?
🙂
I like conga. The more I think about it the better it works. The only trouble is finding dancing shoes to fit raindrops! Sue
I love the combination of spiritual poetry and nature, using allegory, symbolism, etc. where ever possible. Great work.
Thank you Doug, what a lovely comment: really appreciate you taking the time to make it.