The Wild, Wild Rain Poem by Rani Turton
The Wild, Wild Rain
Cold wind slapping tree branches,
The moon, frenzied, hidden, wonders when
The tempest and the temper will end.
Not yet: a lot more to go. the soldier in the train
The tramp in the tunnel,
The lone young man in a beige raincoat
Hurry along alone.
Then comes the rain, stinging,
The wild, wild rain, the cold drops
Stinging the eyes, the wind tearing at chimney pots
Some tiles will surely fall
The wild, wild rain will come
Dropping, dropping, onto the passive ground
Dark streets empty, the silence and the rain
The silence and the rain
Step to a wild, wild dance
In the darkened empty lane.
Copyright: Rani Turton
This piece opens up the feel of the wildness of some rainstorms just perfectly Rani - - I really enjoyed reading it......10 from Fay....
amazing dear sweet poet to discribe your feelings which you hold inside in this sweet lovely loving way.. so beautiful.. hazem al..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 5:11:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I wonder about the people this poem paints. I like how it suggests more about them by 'casual' description.