Mizzle Poems | Examples

Rain Caress

Today is a drizzle day, 
The softest showers fall, 
A rain caress from the grey
clouds above does enthrall ~
Drench my heart, o gentle spray! 

A brush of love from on high, 
A sprinkling of raindrops, 
This light mizzle makes me sigh, 
as this trickle ne'er stops ~
Saturate my soul, dear sky! 

A tender stroke of warmth moist
dribbles down with levin*, 
Cool rains, my spirit they hoist, 
Blissful beads on my skin ~
Immerse me in joy unvoiced! 


*levin - lightning

Threads of Faith

When dark clouds are split asunder
we tap our bubbly emotions 
amid lightening and thunder

we become alive with every drop of mizzle
and ride our waves amid galaxies

akin starlight, Our hearts glint in their purest essence 
Beneath shadows of hope and desperation
We knit threads of faith

Leaves that fall
One by one,from trees
akin days that fall apart from life

Innocent Rabbits chatter in their burrows
Where do eagles take refuge
If they are homeless wanderers

Through the horizons came high pitching roars
To Build houses on earth is against our glory
a statement so terse and firm

Spider Plant Verse

incessant, mellow mizzle 
a newborn's feathery caress


23rd March, 2023


Form: Abantu

My Romantic You

I wink my eyes for you
  Each day of my life
In each tic I blink for you
  Every minute I enjoy my life

Endless thoughts of you
  Kept me awake, dreaming of you
The clouds I see each day
  Blows my mind away

The blazing wind that whispers your name
  Day and night, serves my flame
Dusts that circle around me
  Gusts of memories, you mizzle me

The sun that opens my day
  The moon that lightens my way
The rainbow that colors my sight
  The stars that strengthen my might 

I close my eyes at night
  My thoughts still awake and bright
I dream of you every other night
  Stars spell out your name under the moonlight...

A Flogging Rain

We carry small talk above our heads, ceilings drip clouds.
Nothing is put away.  Coats dangle over chairs in layers.
Drugged by spate and mizzle, denim droops, 
snagged over rummage
and the outstretched arms of impedimenta.

The house awakes to a soft toed patter.
Around us, cuffs pull the roof closer to damp collars,
hangers weep in wardrobes, 
while the unhung sink in muddy shallows.

Before the light paddles away, calico, cotton, and shirttails
 are rescued, bundled into higher heaps;
the soggy separated from the merely mildewed.
The muddled and fusty raised above an imagined tide.

Tomorrow, front steps will be scoured; 
the washed-out made to flap.
Squirrels may walk the earth again, 
and if a blotting wind returns, we will wave    
from dry bathtubs.

Seeking Yellow

When I look at the charred plasma 
of a bare knuckled wind
I forget the ardor of yellow.

Then I recall the smeared tones
of skunk cabbage
rising through haze and mizzle,
or how in the Far East
the river at sunset
transforms a blistered heat
into the stippled gold of temple lamps.

After the grey scuttle of urban hours 
there’s a yellowed drizzle 
of twilight in any city
when a chill brume of evaporation
hangs gleaming and electric.

I see the mottled leaf of autumn
how gold seeps through
its flamboyant carnage.

Far away from the ruby panic 
of fledgling mouths
or the crimsoned wounds of orchids,
I seek a tint, a gloaming yellow essence,
a sun-flowering at the of day.

Inlet

Fog slow-dances over the inlet
until water and air waltz together.
My ears are muffled 
in the dawn mizzle.

Grebes and Coots colonize this tributary,
gulls just visit, as I do.

A person could row out to the ocean from here,
but the thick haze might take a soul
or lose a body
then it would be caught between two worlds.

Later sitting on the cabin porch,
mind wondering why
the skiff did not head out to the coastal waves
at least as far as any swimmer might go,

but the answer is clear;
keeping this ageing body safe,
that’s all that matters now.

Moorland Ponies

There are wild horses in the heather;
their neighing follows the wake
of hewing wind-wraiths.
The ponies are hardy and stout, they go
in and out of the clouds, slip through
swale and dingle.

The moors are high. You don't feel the altitude
only the depth of the land. When the sky turns sullen
it tilts to smother the earth.
If the scything winds falter, the shallow sod
bogs into sumps and divots

Where trees cannot be, clouds spread
a muffling mizzle over gorse and grass,
a grazing tide carries a spume of chills.
The hills here are thigh deep, rills of dark water
loiter and seep.

The small ponies shake their matted manes,
mist-sprays pool in muddy hoofprints,
the warm brume of their snorts
leads you onward on a lonesome track
for they alone know the steps taken
to cross over each dim acres edge.

Travel with them to a gritstone ledge,
where the heath plunges dale deep,
there above the tall treetops
a bright sky will rise up to meet you.

Drizzle Mizzle

Grey hovers in jagged knots
over the blue expanse on high,
Sure sign of coming rain,
Thunder faraway, the clouds sigh!

Soft tears unleashed, valley washed,
Feel the drizzle on your skin,
Clouds cry, leaving you cold,
Lightning flash nearby, misty grin!

A bow curves delightfully embellishing
the vast sky in brilliant hues,
Dark clouds pass, sprinkles cease,
Smiles brighten as rainbow inspires muse.


07.29.2021



For Joseph May's "Alpha Lines" contest

The Tops

up a steep and narrow road
reach the tops
wilderness reclaims a verge
of wintery snags
land juts and tilts
hauls out
lays treeless

clumps and hags
pitch up stricken soil
heap above the miry troughs 

loud the heartbeat
nearer to feral thought
then any mouth or ear

swale and quag dawdle
appear to seep listless 
no
every bog tunnels shrouded
to fetch up the feckless

harsh and gorsy
heather treading low
the moors mark nothing
only a head of gnashing wind 
a whipping dinosaurs tail
blear and chill 
bites and grapples

a stone-tusked marl 
crofts under
tangles of un-spun fleece 
in barb and thistle
sheep piss in running rivulets  
thread through
mizzle-pecked rocks 
inscribed
by whatever tortures the air

ravens picket grit edges
wings beating back the below 
primal caws that lift and speak
for the standing stones
their harrowing
lime-cuffed history

before light founders deeper
black anvils appear
in the lowering

a scant anchoring
a bare farrowing
shorn and scoured aloft
by miles of orbiting
beauty

twenty years later
son sends pictures
of moors long traipsed

the sky in my phone howls

Meg and the Sun

Daybreak dangled in foggy strips.
Mizzle had mugged the day,
grey-flecked cuckoo spit
smuggled summer under hoary roots.

Bill formed an Indian gang
to snatch the light back.
Later, parting the scalp of a hedge
we saw the sun
tangled in an old hawthorn.

Meg, (Bill’s sister),
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
There was a chance
we would see her knickers
so we gave her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs
snaked through the spiky twigs.
Half-way to the top
the sun cut loose, drifting
beyond her reach.

Meg whooped and almost fell.
We boys grinned as her bare legs
slide down onto our shoulders.

Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.

Pleasant Domain

She lived alone in her domain,
Recited and danced with great height,
Beneath the gentle blossoms leaves rain,
Sans approaching in anyone's sight.

She was very shy,
But her placidity and fortes was high.
Her liberty was beyond imagination,
She was not a part of this sinful creation.

She ruled on every path, mountains and trees.
None can stop her to dancing,
Neither the heavy mizzle nor the tough breeze.

But,
One day many foreigners arrived.
They started drinking, smoking, creating bars,
And seized her holy land,
But then, her bravery made her stand.
Till the last breathe, she battled very hard,
But eventually they ripped her apart.

- Augastus Black
Date - 18th June 2015

Racing Raindrops

It starts as mizzle, a lethargic drizzle dribbling down the pane.
It’s dull and grey on this miserable day - I want to have some fun,
a sudden flash brings a big fat splash raindrop racing has begun.

The skies rock the starters block, they’re pelting down the pane,
tipping, slipping, constantly dripping, never ever still,
chasing, pacing, always racing each other to the sill,
lashing, dashing, splishing, splashing giving me such a thrill.

Their watery tails leave comet trails blazing across the pane. 
They’re hell for leather in this inclement weather then out peeps the sun,
her soft warm glow makes the raindrops slow evaporating every one.

26/5/2013

Boo Lizzy Woo

Fuzzle wuzzle,
wuzzle woo,
muzzle mizzle,
wizzy boo.

Neezzy weezzy,
dizzy woo,
tizzy fizzy,
....my feelings for you.

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