“A Very Rainy Day” – a poem by Amarine Rose Ravewood

rain-4376988_1920

Violet-gray, the skies are, today,
And the droplets pour around;
No longer May, but June, all the way,
And the roses gently drowned.

A thunderclap; a lightning flash,
the rumble moves the earth;
The flooding smash of puddles splash,
as water rills in mirth.

The broken boughs, from wind that howls,
in quite-loud cacophony,
bow and swing, as room allows,
from the trunk of a nearby tree.

The rivulets run, in buoyant fun,
down every street and lane;
It won’t be done, even after the sun
has made the weather sane;

For Earth’s thirst is quenched – in fact, it’s drenched
her cup is overflowing;
the gardens are wrenched and the houses, entrenched,
and travel’s dependent on rowing.

But for now, the frogs, and the pollywogs
are having a lovely day;
even though the dogs – maybe even the gods –
are cowering where they may…

 

© Amarine Rose Ravenwood, 2020

A Nemor

Nym Cover Drawing 5 Pastels Close Up Edited Watermarked

In the great Northern wood where the Bumbello blows,
Lives a tribe of people that nobody knows.
The vast shady breeze of the pumpalump trees
Carries their tribe-songs throughout their leaves

They’re the bravest of warriors – hardy, but true,
And come in all colors, especially blue.
Legends abound of their fiery breath,
They know honor and courage and even face death.
They’re furry and cuddly, and lovable too,
With loyalty strong, they hold true to you.

A Nemor is generous, gentle, and kind,
A furry exterior, an intelligent mind.
But a Nemor is rare – as rare as can be,
For nobody goes to the pumpalump trees.
Shrouded in mystery, these creatures exist,
Hiding in hollows and living in mist.

~ Amarine Ravenwood

Artwork by Lorraine Hall