A late March thundershower floats toward me
Like a plucked flower
Handed over on a walk to a lover
With a smile
Down this afternoon path
That breezes past
Spring-born ponds
Erupting
Of Peepers ululating and Chorus Frogs ratcheting
In a wave of Gnawa music.
The surface
Puckers
Diacritic raindrops
Slowly
Softly
Each plop and their purple ripple
Has not enough splash
To generate an echo
From the reedy shore.
The storm not so strong to hide the sun
For long
To move a wind
Or slice the sky with lightning
Rolls by with quiet thunder
Wetting my hair and all the early blossoms.
My spirit lifts while its shadow stoops
Cups the mud.
This gentle stir
Today
Seems to awaken and nudge the air
Just enough
To take His hand
Away
Sets free
The spring Dove
From his fist
Writes its wings in a mist
Changes his mind from Him to Her.
Categories:
thundershower, beauty, earth, easter, faith,
Form: Free verse
Where The Lemon Trees Flower
I know the land where the lemon trees flower,
with citrus scents that often overpower
those of the rose or sweet-perfumed wildflower
that grow around the old Sicilian tower.
Here, hand in hand, close to the midnight hour,
we walk the trails where full-moon does empower
young lovers seek their own romantic bower,
while soulful bells ring out from the watchtower.
We soon take shelter from a thundershower;
'tween lightning bolts, it booms its mighty power.
In loving arms, I'm safe with brave manpower
that holds me close within love's superpower.
Anon, our kisses weaken love's willpower,
so back we head to our Sicilian tower,
where lemon scents are sweet and never sour...
and love and lemon-trees together flower.
Sandra M. Haight
~5th Place~
Premiere Contest: August 2018
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Judged: August 8, 2018
~8th Place~
Premiere Contest: Pretty Poem Please
Sponsor: Julia Ward
Judged: 08/02/2018
Categories:
thundershower, happiness, love,
Form: Lyric
Mayhem, pandemonium
total chaos, bedlam, devastation.
A soft, soothing breeze turns
into a whirlwind, a hurricane causing
havoc, death, destruction and untold misery…
Is it the fault of the fair wind?
The life-giving rainfall
cool, refreshing, revitalizing,
turns into rainstorm,
violent thundershower, lightning
causing flash flood, landslide,
mass wasting and shambles…
Is it the fault of the water?
A common man
good, God-fearing,
eking out a simple livelihood,
living a frugal life but sparingly,
thrifty and weak-willed.
When politicians and priests
wreck ruin in his life and
he turns violent, causing terror…
Is this the fault of a mere man?
~10/1/17
~Best free-verse poem oct.-Dec. by John Hamilton
Categories:
thundershower, endurance, lost,
Form: Free verse