Midnight Rain

Listen close and hear the sounds, Of a thousand droplets falling down. Upon each pitch and roof laid bare, From a twisting open heavenly weir. Drink in the cool and fragrant night air, As midnight spills out cool delight. Now hush all up not a sound, As quickly fell, now silence drowns. Keep secret what … More Midnight Rain

Cry With The Rain

when your edges have become rough and dried out and your roots can find no source of inspiration or joy when taller trees shadow your failing leaves and the ground cracks beneath your woes cry with the rain what wrents to your soul become can only be shown by tears from above let the shining … More Cry With The Rain

Rain Divine

Hear the plink and fall of each piano key, As water meets each growing leaf. Mother nature’s rhythm audible to those who listen, Contained within a breath of trillion drops. -M.E. InkOwl

Think of the Rain

  What do you think of the rain, Pouring down from a bosom of torn open sky? Does it feel as if there is an end to goodness, As clouds seemingly fill the wandering blue? Do your senses run mad, At the thought of this constant beating drum? Will this deluge be forever, Drowning us … More Think of the Rain

Summer Rain

Splash upon sun-warmed skin, As wind rushes out the calm. Sweet refreshment drifts down, As fresh sheets upon a line. Rumble over this plot of land, Parched as bone and sagebrush. Drink life from the heavens, As roots sing deep beneath ground. -M.E. InkOwl

Reality Takes Leave

“My dear Emiline, you simply must face the facts. Your parents were not carried off by a,” Governess Metlock waved a hand in Emiline’s direction. The white lace trim of her black satin sleeve danced in the stale air, “what did you say? Winged bear?” Emiline sat in a straight-backed chair, her feet swinging through the air. … More Reality Takes Leave

Mr. Johnson’s Delight

The storm had hit without warning. Rain descended in a torrent, washing over the neighborhood.  Water flooded the gutters, streets, and yards. Jaime and Brad had watched it all happen from their upstairs window. Their house sat on the lower end of the neighborhood. Within a manner of moments, everything turned into a turbulent bog. Dead branches, weeds, and mud swirled … More Mr. Johnson’s Delight