Here's one that I wrote a bunch of years ago whilst listening to the third straight day of rain on my Bermuda stone roof. It seems fitting since I'm currently listening to the plink-plonk of rain against my windows, punctuated by the occasional distant rumble-boom of thunder off in the distance.
Waiting for the Sun
(April 2003)
And so it begins
The rhythm of nature
Tap tap tapping at the glass
Smothering me in gray
Reaching in to invade my sunny soul
With cold steel needles
Long tendrils of gloom take hold
Wrapping me in despair
But still I fight
I cling to the memory of a bright sky
That feeds the light of my heart
Hoping to feel the warmth on my face
Before I break under the hypnotic pulse of God
Despite the darkish sentiments, I do love me a good loud thunderstorm! (just not for 3 days)
And we need it now to wash away all the dust and grit left over from the melted snow. We had a fantastic sunny weekend. My tulips are high up out of the ground now, reaching for the sun. I have a smattering of wild purple flowers (?) in my front garden and am gearing up for trip to the nursery for my perennials. Does it sound at all like I know what I'm talking about? Cause really, I don't. What I don't know about gardening could fill a farmer's field.
And while you're sitting at your computer, go see West of Mars for more on aging rockstar Walter. He's got a last name, and I'm guessing he likes perogies!!
And don't miss Thomma Lyn's latest musings about drawing from personal struggles to enrich your fictional characters. Awesome post, TL.
