literature

The Rain It Raineth

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Literature Text

The rain it raineth here today,
And children in mud puddles play.
Down the path the potting mix
Has left its trail of leaves and sticks
Bestowed upon the bitumen,
And soggy contents of the bin
Are flowing down to block the drain
As rubbish swells up with the rain.
A bum, sans jacket, hat, or hood,
Has to make do with slat of wood.
Eaves and down-pipes become fountains.
The roundabouts are island mountains.
In country places, streams are high,
Across the fields no birds do fly.
The hapless cattle huddle down
‘Neath any shelter can be found.
Likewise, the people in the street
Don’t stop and talk with whom they meet,
They scurry by, with frowns so wide
You know they’d rather be inside.
Joggers prefer their exercise
With slightly drier calves and thighs.
The fancy-suited businessman
Avoids the water as he can,
And short people, those nasty fellas,
Poke tall men’s faces with umbrellas.
Clothes are sodden, shoes are soaked,
Upon the hearth the fire is stoked.
And then a brilliant blinding flash
With thunder’s following roll and crash,
Astounds the people passing by
As it lights then shakes the sky.
Composed 2 October 06

A poem composed mostly on the back of a Munchy-Mart receipt, trying to hold a small umbrella with my chin, with a blunt pocket-pencil (that's a pencil stub shorter than the last two digits of a finger) on the way to collect my (first) replacement external hard drive.

In, obviously, a rainstorm.

I am literally (by which I mean literature, not trueness) pleased with several bits of this poem, for example the line 'Bestowed across the bitumen', for its elegant alliteration and the picture of sticks being generously strewn along the rainwater-path, as they indeed were. I am also pleased with the Ogden Nash-styled humour evident in some of the phrasing (with a quick reference to Harry Graham).
© 2006 - 2024 dariyan
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