Writing poetry
To the sound of raindrops
Hitting the patio
With each finger stroke
I hear an old typewriter
Hitting each letter
The clickety clack
The roller moving the platen along
And the mellifluous bell!
Now the rain is hard
And pounds the bricks below
Furiously writing
The poem is nearing
A climax as the rain
Turns to hail
Noisily
Ricocheting off gutters
And pavement
Tearing down all
That is brave enough to remain
In its path
And the hail returns
To rain with thunder
And a flash of lightning
Then gently
It softens and resolution
Is hinted at
But the rain
Falls hard again
Running down the curbs
Angry thunder
Juxtaposes with sunshine
Coming through the clouds
And the downpour
Quickens and thickens against
Windows, roads, all
The patio door is open
So I can smell the rain but
The rain is coming in
I lay a towel
To catch the wet rather than
Shutting out the storm
My cats hover near
Peaking through the mist
To watch in awe
The rain itself
Appears to be
Writing the poem
As the storm subsides
The poem winds to a close
But its scent lingers on
