For Martin with thanks for the memories
Two words trickle out - rain and romance running together in rivulets drizzle down the glass 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 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
PoetryPix 
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.
I must take the next tempest by storm Marian – thank you for giving us so many words to choose
Who doesn’t hear “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg” reading this? (OK, sub-geezers.) How wistful and fine and bittersweet. The grace that saves us is in the final line.
Thank God for the upturn and for your marvellous comment – piqued my interest in that film now – too young to see it first time around 😉
This brings me back to the moments of falling in love when walking in rain was a part of being together… but comfort has a tendency to settle in bones.
and rain doth make cowards of us all!
Oh, this is so beautiful! Yes, romance comes in many forms, as rain does – I love the idea in this poem, and the comparison ❤
Thanks for your observation Esther – I had not quite seen the parallels til now
Rain and romance running in rivulets..you do the alliteration in style! Takes me back to when that used to be fun!!
Must start singing in the rain again before I lose all the fun
Laura~ Awesome, that was quite romantic… I’m jealous 🙂
That’s a very nice thing to say – many thanks!
Enjoying my “precipitous years”, I still fondly remember those trysts in the rain! Senior trysts have a magic of their own, however…..
as long as theye still hold hands
I have recently been reacquainted with the romance of rain and puddles as I walk 3 times a day no matter the weather….I find rain harder to deal with than snow.
sounds good Donna – healthy and accompanied?
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.
picturing lovers blown side on like trees in a predominant wind
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! 😉
as long as we had love to warm the cockles of our heart we could scurry happily 😉
I love this! So romantic. That beginning wonderfully sets the tone “– rain and – romance
running together in rivulets”
I really appreciate your appreciation especially as I rarely write of romance!
This poem really made me think about changes that you do not see, until someone else points them out. Beautifully written.
many thanks – old habits creep in and die hard
Now I can’t remember when I had become such an indoor person but hadn’t I loved being in the rains. What a cozy comfort in the end!
rain is for the precipitous ages too – trying to remember that!
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.”💘
thank you Sanaa – I like the arrow – straight to the heart as poetry should be …if only!
Ah, I would rather walk in a light shower than a gutsy squall. There IS something about rain and romance.
made for each other
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]
ahh- happy days
Beautiful, and perfect picture to go with it!
I know poetry needs no pictures but I like to keep a hand in with some photoart so thank you for noticing!