Monday, May 14, 2012


Soft, soundless summer rain
I think it strange
No electric light show
No ruckus of thunder
Only misty cloak of heaven
Almost apologetic
Trying hard not to disturb
Kissing thirsty petals
Sating creation's desires
Subduing earth's clamor
If only for a spell
Pouring out puddles

As one child splashes
I remember another
Certain summers ago
Fearless, laughing at life
I lament his loss
Ponder what became
(He, being me)

He would seek cover
But for this day only, he remains
Splashing, laughing at life

Some may think it strange


  1. I wonder why we don't play in puddles more as adults. I did with my nephew when he was little, and it was some of the best fun I'd had in years. And yet, several years later, I've yet to do it again.

    Maybe next time it rains, I'll remember to go splash in puddles.

  2. What an absolutely lovely poem...this is no wreck. Your first stanza is especially beautiful! I love "misty cloak of heaven"...

  3. It's the other summer rain--the one without T&L. This is an abridged version of my original comment which was much more critiquey

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