Posted in My Haiku, tagged bard on the hill, Dennis Allen Lange, destructive, haiku, hurricanes, Let Me Know In Advance, poems, poetry, storms, tornadoes, warning on May 7, 2019| Leave a Comment »
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Tornadoes
Give no warning like
Hurricanes.
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photo by Photonut at http://www.rgbstock.com/photo/2dQMPzc/Bad+Weather
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* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.
See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/
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© Dennis Allen Lange, 2019.
Posted in Drought Poems, My Poems, tagged bard on the hill, clouds, crash of cloud cymbals, Dennis Allen Lange, Drought-Breaker, dry desperate land, flood, let it rain, low pressure systems, Noah, parched, poems, poetry, rivers, storms, thunder and lightning on April 4, 2017| 7 Comments »
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That glorious day when the clouds start to drain
O’er desperate land that is begging for rain
Brings a thrill for parched hearts when it comes,
…when it comes,
When it falls on the leaves, and the roofs, and it drums.
A crash of cloud cymbals, a bright flash of light;
The dark of the storm turns the day into night;
And the song of the rain as it falls,
…and it falls
Fills the crestfallen hearts as it thrills and enthralls.
The roads become rivers that gurgle along
And join with the rain in the singing the song.
And the sweet melody that they play
…and they play
Is the number one tune by request for the day.
The torrents that fall and the torrents that flow
Bring smiles to the faces now starting to glow;
And the chant they repeat: “Let it rain!
…Let it rain!”
Are the words to the song, its imploring refrain.
Drought-breakers are systems that linger for days,
A guest that is welcome till it overstays
But the call for the clouds, “Time to go.
…Time to go”,
Is a call that comes never, or ever so slow.
But Noah and his flood will ne’er come again,
And storms of our era move on with their rain.
In the blue that is left, the sun shines
…and it shines;
Shines like smiles on the faces, the glow in men’s minds.
Behind is the earth, and it’s lavish and lush
The rivers are swollen; lakes ravished and flush.
And the song has turned green – the land hums
…And it hums.
It’s a song of elation for death – drought succumbs.
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The photo is mine – rain in the valley below my hill.
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© Dennis Allen Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2017.
The Bard on the Hill 