Rain falls in blue grey thick twists. It falls so loud there are no other sounds.
The water-ropes fray, let loose the gold sun, the birdsong. One tractor rolls, sprays mud.
It had rained all night. Drop-thud on the lean-to roof was our lullaby.
Clouds smudge the sun to a silver light.
Cold invokes weariness.
Steam from a kettle, smell of coffee brewing.
Pressing hands around warm mugs.
Rain falls in blue grey thick twists. It falls so loud there are no other sounds.
The water-ropes fray, let loose the gold sun, the birdsong. One tractor rolls, sprays mud.
It had rained all night. Drop-thud on the lean-to roof was our lullaby.
Clouds smudge the sun to a silver light.
Cold invokes weariness.
Steam from a kettle, smell of coffee brewing.
Pressing hands around warm mugs.
Rain falls in blue grey thick twists. It falls so loud there are no other sounds.
Drop-thud in the moisty morning; perfect reason to return to a snug bed, coffee and newspaper in hand.
ReplyDeleteDog disagrees but I see your point :-)
DeleteOoh, I could feel that rain and mood.
ReplyDeleteHooray for temperate climes :-)
DeleteSometimes there is a universal quality in the weather over you. I'm almost ready to believe our minds begin some distance from our actual bodies.
ReplyDelete'Head in the clouds' as they say; I always took that as a compliment :-)
Delete