Viola Grey

Rookie - 0 Points (Feb '73 / NZ)

About to fall

You can smell it in the air
long before the pavement darkens
with each fat, slow drop.
Electricity sparks upon our flesh
as the wind gathers pace,
throwing lifeless leaves
into the hungry current
of a night lush with life.
Here it comes.....
here it is.....
awash with copper scents,
like blood on your lips,
the storm begins.
Together, yet somehow alone,
we embrace the rain
and slowly pull apart.


Submitted: Thursday, November 06, 2008


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Comments about this poem (About to fall by Viola Grey )

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  • Rookie Ellie- Daphne (5/13/2012 8:54:00 AM)

    This is not only about rain... and storm.........

    This is a pciture showing............

    What an exellent choise of words to paint the picture so important to YOU.

    WooooooooooooW (Report) Reply

  • Rookie *Trusting You* (11/23/2008 11:53:00 PM)

    You can smell it in the air
    long before the pavement darkens
    great lines. this is a piece of true poetry... a true poet... I love it. great job.
    Becca (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 6 Points Naseer Ahmed Nasir (11/19/2008 11:48:00 PM)

    A real creative piece of poetry...very well worded....that's all I can say after so many comments especially from Mark Nwagwu, Tony Jolley and Kevin Wells. It's my reading of the day. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Chitra - (11/19/2008 12:17:00 AM)

    incredible write, kept me glued right till end
    read and re-read this fine piece of creative excellence (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Kevin Wells (11/15/2008 11:57:00 AM)

    I cannot better Tony's comments, nor would I try.
    When I listen to 'The night before' on the Beatles 'Help' album, It takes me back to eating fish and chips out of newspaper at home when I was ten - but I mean really vividly! All five senses can be a strange trip in a time machine. This captures the mood perfectly of something most of us have felt - that strange sensation before a storm. It is, I think, a sense that goes way back to the cave; primeval superstitions now replaced by none-the-wiser meteorologists. Like fate, we don't know what the storm holds for us but we still know it's coming. In my very humble opinion, Vi, this is one of your best.
    Kev. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Tony Jolley (11/10/2008 6:10:00 AM)

    'Fat, slow drops'... 'lush..night'..'electricity'; as Lisa suggests, there is so much here the reader can enjoy this moment both vicariously and viscerally. It is the only poem I have ever read where I am sure I could actually smell the moment and remember your memory myself. Smell doesn't appear much as a sense in poetry, yet it can be so powerful: I have about three smells and a couple of tastes that transport me involuntarily to an exact moment, place, event: almost like a 'where were you when you heard the news that JFK had been shot? ' moment: that definitive. This poem hit me just like that, Viola - staggering! Keep writing! ! Tony (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 295 Points Patti Masterman (11/9/2008 5:46:00 PM)

    Nice work Viola. I expect I am a sort of connoisseur of storms- living in
    the midwestern U.S.; tornado alley. Your description is so perfect it
    gives me chills just like a genuine thunderstorm. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Who Iam (11/9/2008 11:17:00 AM)

    One can truly smell it or see it in the air,
    the begining of most storms pre-empt themselves
    in various ways, I can visualize a different 'storm' through your words.
    You have captured this one very nicely. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie - 0 Points Tom Balch (11/9/2008 5:08:00 AM)

    This pulls/blows the reader into the storm, a really great read Viola 10/10 tom (Report) Reply

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