Monday, July 28, 2014

It Rains

It rains. Not gentle laugh-lines like a chuckle from the sky
But earnest, pelting staccato against the willow-sigh
Where mini-runnels race and chase in senseless rivalry
Their predecessors, rushing like great rivers to a sea

It rains, and home is sweeter in the splashing serenade
And dashing doggerel of silver-slipping promenade
Where daydreams wink in sudden reborn possibility
As summer’s great outdoors implores with rain-ripe urgency

It rains. A strange, sweet sorrow tugs and hugs fond memories
And gardens bow beneath the weight of heaven’s sweeping seas
Where little, stippled lakes dapple the driveway. God unchains
A troupe of lilting legions to parched avenues. It rains

© Janet Martin


  1. So well-said - and the perfect background to cozy in on the porch and read a book.

  2. Beautiful poem and photo.
    I love to hear the rain, it refreshes mt spirit.

  3. As I said as I shared this wonderful work on Facebook (couldn't help myself!) it surely is a masterpiece of words. It makes me almost cry - and I am not sure why. So well written. Thanks, Janet, my poet friend!

  4. Margie, I love the rain too. thank-you:)

  5. Glynis, thank-you for 'feeling' it and sharing it! Hugs(()) Looking forward to seeing you soon.


Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!