It caught us
unawares. It was unexpected,
a summer shower that cooled off all
but our desire.
My dress, ivory with an array of tiny purple flowers
was thin, and saturated
with the deluge …
Published on Medium: Assemblage by Loose Words
Find the complete version here.
:
©2022 Christine Kelly
Photograph by the author
It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops, scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.
The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want …
Published on Medium: P.S. I Love You for Poetry Sunday
Find the complete version here.
:
© 2020 Christine Kelly
All Rights Reserved
Photo by Nadia Valko on Unsplash
A year has passed
since that August morn,
yet it feels like yesterday.
A day beginning like every other day,
only it wasn’t.
I woke, alone,
at peace with the silence and soft
entrance to the day.
I lay there, thinking,
contemplating the end;
twenty-three years of a life
accompanied but not shared.
A half-life,
existing,
stasis all I knew.
A single day bringing all that to an end.
Changes would mount, swiftly,
a hurricane gathering shape
and strength
offshore.
I girded myself for the storm,
open arms and an upturned face
waiting
for the rains to come.
A stinging kiss to remind me
I am alive.
Transformation found in droplet
and deluge
alike.
:
Copyright © SirenSong1208
All rights reserved
Photograph by Lynne Gee via Flickr
It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops, scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.
The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want.
He is the one I think of when the rain falls, shattering itself upon the pavement. A Saturday morning with nothing but the sound of rain, and thunder in the distance. It’s always him I think of — sitting end to end on a couch, reading. Or, notebooks open upon laps, jotting down something that comes to us, dialogue or a poem. I think of laying in his arms, just listening to the rain, not saying a word. I think of the intimacy of the moment and how completely I want that. I think of how this will never come to pass.
:
Copyright © SirenSong1208
All rights reserved
Photograph taken from Pinterest, original source unknown.
I listen to the rain outside my window
every droplet falling midway between hard and soft.
I get lost in the rhythm
hard
soft
hard
soft
and I imagine every one as you
falling upon my skin
touching me.
Your lips
finding my every curve and hollow
adoring them
worshiping them
like an artist
like a lover.
Your tongue
tasting me.
Your eyes closed as you make that first discovery.
That long asked question
answered.
The hunger to taste more
burning through you
like a wildfire.
The rain makes me think of getting lost in you
of every sensation I can conjure
when your name
crosses my lips.
:
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken from Tumblr
The storm is upon me.
I watch the trees swaying in the August wind,
thunder cracking like a mighty fist
upon a table.
Lightning flashing in the distance,
illuminating the evening.
Twilight settling the sky
from day to night.
I watch from my garden door
as the rain comes in swiftly.
The droplets littering the glass,
like a thousand miniature eyes,
watching me
as I watch the storm,
enraptured.
:
©SirenSong1208 ~ 2015
Photograph taken from Pinterest
Raindrops have their own music
In this symphony of rain
The initial movement is undoubtedly
Allegro agitato
The rain
Fast and angry
Making a statement
Making an entrance
This eases into andante
But the rain
When there is a storm
Never starts with one tempo and ends with another
There is a continual accelerando and ritardando
Fast
Slow
Fast
Slow
Until the heavens empty of their anger
The sky clears
And the sun comes out
:
*Written two years ago but as I watch and wait for the rain it seemed a perfect time to repost.
©SirenSong1208
Photo taken from Pinterest, original provenance unknown.
I listen to the rain outside my window
every droplet falling midway between hard and soft.
I get lost in the rhythm
hard
soft
hard
soft
and I imagine every one as you
falling upon my skin
touching me.
Your lips
finding my every curve and hollow
adoring them
worshiping them
like an artist
like a lover.
Your tongue
tasting me.
Your eyes closed as you make that first discovery.
That long asked question
answered.
The hunger to taste more
burning through you
like a wildfire.
The rain makes me think of getting lost in you
of every sensation I can conjure
when your name
crosses my lips.
:
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken from Tumblr
This bruised sky
is full of aching and melancholy.
There is electricity in the air
and a distant rumble of approaching thunder.
I wait
anticipating the sky’s torrent of release.
Eager to feel it’s cool kiss
and the sting as it hurtles to the ground
my skin bearing witness to it’s violence
as I am soaked to the bone.
Knowing
that despite the bite of cold in the air
no matter the flood of water
descending from the sky
that the burning tides
I find myself swimming through
cannot
and will not
be extinguished.
:
©SirenSong1208
Photograph taken by SirenSong1208
The rain looks like stars
In a night drenched in black
The pavement glittering with silver
I breathe softly
The evening air cool upon my lips
I attempt to calm this turbulence
Within myself
To slow
This rapid pulse
A staccato in my ears
And this dizzying feeling
Which consumes me
I am saturated with emotions
With desire
With longing
Conjured up
With the mere thought of you
Artwork “Dancing in the moonlight” by Gilles Grimoin
Siren Whispers 