At Night the Rain

The headache, she persisteth, oy vey. What a bloody waste of a weekend. I shall have to offer you a little more antique verse, while I lie down again and fuss because I find reading even so much as detective fiction quite hard going at the moment.

It is very safe to say that I have spent entirely too much time writing ‘practice’ poems, designed, say, to exercise one’s ability in the teeth of Spenserian stanzas on the set subject ‘It was a dark and stormy night’. But I was technically writing a PhD at the time (don’t ask [Oh, please don't ask - Ed]), so it’s hardly surprising I spent hours and hours on this kind of thing instead.

At night the rain is snapped out by the gale,
A waterlogged white sheet spread through the air
And pinned to grass and sky just like a sail
Whose trailing edge is tethered to my hair.
It pulls me forward, astray, without a care,
A sailing leaf, a fishing-boat, a bark.
Lost under seas of stormy sky I dare
Go home the long way through the roaring dark,
Across the streaming grass, across the tree-bound park.

Above the oaks the air lies two miles deep -
A mass of wind and water roiling by -
And all the darkened houses crouch asleep
Beneath the roaring oceans of the sky.
On watery nights like these we humans lie
Or safe indoors or stray beneath the rain;
A few of us can hear the weather’s cry
And walk abroad despite the anchor-chain
That lets us run yet brings us safely home again.

At last I went away from the wet trees
Between the rushing walls of rain and light
That streaks the rain. The street-lamps that one sees
Are saffron gate-ways splitting up the night.
They mark me as I come back from my flight
Into the elements to loose my soul
And wash it clean in storm-winds like a kite.
So wet and wild into the house I stole,
Still fierce with gales and oceans, bright-dark night, and whole.

Now, is this a fairly good poem, or an utterly shit poem? We’ve all looked at it for hours, and we can’t quite tell.

This entry was posted in NaBloPoMo 2007, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to At Night the Rain

  1. Ed says:

    I love that one. That is an EXCELLENT poem. Breathless. Kinetic. Rattles and tears along like unruly weather and pulls you forward, by the hair.

  2. Reed says:

    *resists violent urge to do embarrassingly grateful hugging*

  3. archie FCD says:

    Whow – slow down – I can’t keep up!

    It is a GOOD poem – it has rhyme and metre and metaphor and imagery. And I like it.

    By sheer coincidence I have just prepared a post for the weekend with Alfred Noyse’s “The Highwayman”. So I was caught by your line, “Lost under seas of stormy sky”. Wonderful.

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