Rain and romance

photoart & poem - rain and romance
photoart & poem – ©2017 Laura Granby

Two words trickle out
– rain and – romance
running together in rivulets
drizzle down the glass
imaginary traces of an unhurried scurry of lovers
puddle hopping in syncopated rhythm
the black umbrella rising and falling in time
wet hair and couldn’t care less
sometimes seeking cover in a fruit orchard
big summer drops and ripening plums
or there in the lee of a causeway, an upturned boat
weather-proofed and picnicking

this far on into precipitous years
there is no desire for it
to tarry in the most modest of tempests
nor  linger in the lightest shower
instead we scatter haywire like late November leaves
buffeted by gusty squalls to the far reaches, the doorways
homeward bound – still holding hands

In the Imaginary Garden,two words plucked from Marian’s diverse collection of November Themes
and bringing some romance fresh from the rain into Poetry Pantry

34 comments

  1. Wow, Laura. This poem really hits me…. I hadn’t thought about this until now, but o the days of desiring a walk in the rain that perhaps are behind me/us. Wow. Thank you.

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  2. Oh, this is so beautiful! Yes, romance comes in many forms, as rain does – I love the idea in this poem, and the comparison ❤

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  3. Enjoying my “precipitous years”, I still fondly remember those trysts in the rain! Senior trysts have a magic of their own, however…..

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  4. On the west coast we have no choice but to walk in the rain – often torrential, with wild winds blowing the rain and the people sideways. Smiles. But I admit, some of those days I am happy to stay in and watch it through thre window.

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  5. So true … except! Except, when it’s a warm, summer rain. Then I might consider it still, even though I’m leaning toward the “precipitous years.” Cold rain, no, but actually … never was! Cold rain is always/has always been uncomfortable! 😉

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  6. I absolutely adore this especially; “instead we scatter haywire like late November leaves
    buffeted by gusty squalls to the far reaches, the doorways homeward bound – still holding hands.”💘

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  7. I too, (now) in my precipitous years, would rather gaze out at love in the rain than partake in it.
    I do remember those wonderful days, holding hands with my love as we sheltered in doorways, the rain merely a temporary halt.
    Anna :o]

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