On second thoughts, I'd better introduce this one. My mother gave me the topic of rain. Perhaps she was thinking of that light and fluffy 50's film 'Singing in the Rain.'
Instead, she got this:
My release
Dry as the air; parched is my tongue,
I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,
Sore is my skin; blistered by sun,
Wash me free
Wash me free from the confines of sinew and bone;
This carcass a place that my soul calls its home,
I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,
Let me breathe
Let me breathe in the fire, that's burning my throat,
As it cascades in rivulets and relieves me of hope,
I wait for the day when the tropic rains come,
Hear my screams
Hear my screams for the rainfall; a monsoon awake,
With the storm now approaching I feel myself shake,
This is the day when the tropic rains come,
I am free
Free from the evils of what they call life,
Purged from my vessel; like a moth to the light,
The tropic rains stop once they sense my delight:
My release
(c) Copyright Jane Edwards 2010
1 comment:
Oh dear this sounds like swan song!I do hope not!I had to laugh when you said singing in the rain,all I can think of when someone says that I think of that horrible bit in Clockwork orange,guess that spoilt the Gene Kelly film for me!
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