Softens, in a rain
What hardened, viewing
A world this heart.
Blurs, what of its brutalness
Did bright impart.
Stepping, does one hear
Gentle as dainty
Girl's pit-a-pat.
As adoring, have waited on
My own, in that.
Rat-a-tat and pit-a-pat!
‘Pon my word!
Pit-a-pat and rat-a-tat!
It’s a bird –
A woodpecker knocking!
Loudest I’ve heard!
His noise shocking!.
Thrashing the habitat.
His visage mocking.
Rainfall from the heavens
Flashing lights on the horizon
Tapping drops from the skies on frilly rooftops
Whooshing splashes on leafy greens
Pit-a-pat...pit-a-pat...!, rhythmic sounds on rusty metals.
Grey sky with thin silver linings
Stretching abreast its surface with thundering blasts
Wavery but gentle on the earth
Deep letterings on sandy soils
Drenching flows on tree trunks.
Soothing and surreal, the chills feel
On such beautiful downpours at dusk in a little cottage in Meltham
Wrapped in thick clothings
Warmed by the idyllic glow from the fireplace
And sip after sip from my lofty cup, that stays
The zesty taste of my Yorkshire tea.
I won a chess game in the heat, they say that
chess players are nerds, like Robert the rat,
he comes into my garden, can't escape my black cat,
persistence pays off or rather down like a brown splat.
I won a bridge game in the heat, they say that
not everyone is suited, like England going into bat,
the wicket-keeper waddled out of his crease, too fat,
I would have stayed, no devils on my shoulders sat.
I won a tennis match, I had my wrong way round hat,
played the ladies mixed - all they do is pit - a - pat,
I won a bowls match, went and slipped on the mat,
alll these games, I think I'll just stick to baccarat.
They can't beat me, I'm too hot, ever since I came,
only one choice left - I think I'll play the blame game.
Roaring thunder booms
Inky shadow looms
Soft rain
Angry lightning fumes
Smoky vapour plumes
Wet lane
Heaven's water wombs
Harsh downpour assumes
Throb strain
Pit a pat refrain
I hear the campaign
Of sky
Pounding on my pane
Drenching dry terrain
Clouds cry
Nature's water reign
Petrichor again
Pleased sigh
Refreshing supply
Sure does gratify
Clears glooms
Raindrops moisten my
Earth and purify
Her rooms
Showers signify
Blessings poured from high
Hope blooms
There is famous jungle cat, you may even know him . Dextor is his name , he walks with grace about his space in Windsor Castles Garden, pit a pat down the cobbled lane ..Should you be blessed , you'll see him in an Oxfam Shop admiring the ladies style, walking in his white socks with his serene and curious smile . Maybe he'll smile for you too , sat upon his velvet throne, a twinkle in his big green eyes , he purrs and sighs, a messege of the wise. He REALLY looks at home, walking the Olde Inn , looking for The Queen , HRH Anne Bolyen x
Harvest Moons
Indian summer’s green corn moon
Sighs a shy farewell – adieu -
Days pit-a-pat through a slowly closing door.
Amber autumn quietly knocks
In harvest hunter barley moons -
Frost blows air kisses through the keyhole.
8-4-21
Contest: Bite Size Poem #16
Sponsor: Line Gauthier
Harvest Door
Indian summer sighs a shy farewell
Days pit-a-pat
To a door
Closing
Shut
~
Fall
Knocking
Quietly
In harvest moons
While frost blows air kisses through the keyhole.
9-8-20
Picture #1
Double Tetractys Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
You still got it
Got it like that
My heart still goes pit-a-pat
Chills all down my spine
Whenever you're around
I look into your eyes
And I'm hypnotized
The butterflies inside says
You still got it
Got it like that
Listen to my heart
It is going pit-a-pat
Pit-a-pat
Cuz, you still got it
Got it like that
The pattering rain
bliss to the mutual barter
pit-a-pat is gone
For: Catie Lindsey's "In The Mood" Contest.
~ Where should I start this poetic trace? ~
Supple summer, season scene
Takes off coats and welcome warmth
And tranquil under soften sky.
Spring 'O' Spring precedence over summer...
Summer host long light evenings,
Carol patterns and seldom pit-a-pat.
Fertile season, holder of juicy jubilee
Easter burners' night, palm Sunday pedestrian...
And good Friday chorus.
March-to-October, love you so much.
~ Hope I am not missing out? ~
Lol.
Dedicated to the lover of the above poetic summer season.
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