down the rain

the rain is falling arrow straight striking birds still on the wing they struggle in their wish to fly an arc described with raindrops shattering at each attempt by wings to drive where do they fly where do they need to go on such a day of pouring down the answers are fleet feathers flying …

a sea above

it sounds like a wave the roof is serving as a beach of sorts tin sheeting as the sand the wind makes the tide rise softly moaning makes the tide ebb away makes a sigh of flotsam on the move and the clouds are a drifting sea no end to them and I think ... …

…of a cloud

the sound of a cloud is a lash of the wind singing treble in high registers the sound of a cloud is three birds frantic fleeing the storm that boils close behind the sound of a cloud is a rain .............................'.......''.........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking another rain ............'..''........d .............................................................r .............................................................o .............................................................p striking rain ........................'..............d .............................................................r …

before crescendo

spatter-drop the raindrops dance to the rattled tin sound of thunder the clouds in flight are waving bye bye bye and bye spatter-drop-spatter the rain is dancing falling faster now the thunder is a grey tin fence right beside me right above me someone beating it with a stick I think the clouds are fleeing …

street sounds (4): rain care

a car washes up the road ssshhhhwwooowwwrrrraaaarrrhhh as the rain tappa-tappa-tappa-tap ta-ta           ta-ta comes down the street runs like a river flows the cars drift by like powered boats and the rain cares less than naught tappa-ta tappa-ta bouncing spreading wide upon the tin the rain cares nothing ssshhhhwwooowwwrrrraaaarrrhhh © Frank …

stuttering staccato

staccato is a dance I hear it starting on my roof ta ta-ta ta-ta-ta-ta ta ta-ta ta ta-ta-ta s-s-s ... s-s-s ... stuttering until it starts then beating stronger varied pitch it is timpani ta-ta ta-ta ta-ta ta with varied pitch it is the roof timpani staccato falling one-by-ones I watch them from the clouds …

sough intent

the roar of the wind like the pounding of surf breaking constantly this night it is rain that gives the wind body a presence as physical as it is implied my lamp dims to the sough of deeper seas blown and blown intense is the night   © Frank Prem, 2017 October 2017 Poem #20: …

pitter-patter

there’s a light pitter-patter of the rain coming down it’s not down-pouring hardly even falling more just floating to the ground I can hear it on my tin-roof I can see it through the glass there is a light pitter-patter as the rains dances past © Frank Prem, 2010

a pattern

I feel the pattern of the rain as dark drops spreading into each other across the pavement I see it revealed in the tattoo on my rooftop now the colour is every colour made richer at a touch the pallet drawn from an endless sea uniformly grey the texture is a sound that lulls my …

Mizzle Down

the clouds have broken, mizzle down soft on my hand, a tattoo fall from the sky, to touch me cold in an erratic beat for as long as I can stand the chill and the bite of a wind that doesn't care if I am standing here around me is an easy path for the …