Dance.
A grassy sea stretches as far as the eye can see in either direction and just tall enough for a child's curly head to disappear from his troubles. A warm night breeze whispers through it, a lullaby for the chirping crickets. All is silent, save for the wind. As a heavy gust strikes the tips of the grass,it awakes an orchestra. A cloud of fireflies comes to life and begins to dance. Their dancing invites a child to join them and the group grows until a ceiling of fireflies illuminates a ballroom of laughing kids. Summer nights are so much more beautiful when they smile.
Rain Feathers
Rain feathers drip in whispery kisses
Gently glancing off my skin
Drumbeat increases to pounding beat
Musical show of light and sound
Warm caresses remind me of you
Increased pulsating of my heart
Rain embraces with wet passion
As do you as lightning strikes
Welcoming moisture helps earth grow
Just as you increase my bloom
Pulsating rain increases its thrust
As you and I are consumed in lust.
And as the clouds begin to dissipate
we lie sodden in hushed abandon.
I don't know where you are or what you're doing right now, but I wish I was there.
Hot weather, cold weather,
It hardly matters.
We'll make our own weather.
We'll trade sunlight for shared skin,
A cool breeze for dancing,
Thunder for the beating in our chests.
We'll blush with joy instead of frost,
Stick with sweat instead of raindrops,
Swelter with gazes instead of cloudless skies,
Storm in words instead of waves.
Blue will be my head on your shoulder,
Gray when we turn our backs
And humid when we combine our breaths.
We'll even make a starry sky with our fingertips.
We'll make our own weather,
Wherever we go,
As long as we're together.
Typical Irish Weather
I can't see the sky for all the grey overcast clouds that have gathered there. The grey is like that of smudged pencil on paper, patchy and messy but somehow artistic.
Silhouetted against the paper clouds are the still bare branches of trees, reaching toward the heavens in search of the salvation of the sun. The view from the window a mess of branches, the scribblings and doodles on the paper.
Those trees that have dared to release their leaves before the summer sun stand out brave against the bleak backdrop. Their green leaves the only hint of colour in the garden, mixed with the pure white blossoms on the apple tree. Someone has splashed a watercolour green on the paper.
The temperature is that mild comfortable sort, where you need fluffy socks but could put away your big fleecy hoodies, a long sleeved t-shirt will suffice.
Outside the light is sufficient, you could say it was dark due to cloud cover, but not because the turning of the earth will soon plunge your town into the darkness of night. The same can be said for the sofa that faces the window, but the rest of the house is getting dark. You would need to turn the light on on the opposite side of the room, but sat by the window you could read a book by natural light.
A slight breeze sways the green leaves of the nearest tree, hypnotically.
Change of Pace
Dark and rainy
The weather
Is dreary.
The warmth
Of yesterday
Replaced with
Cool raindrops.
Water rolls off
My umbrella
And hits the
Back of my
Legs, as does
The splashings
From my flip-flops.
Once inside
The rain that
Seemed so drear
Becomes a calming
Reverie and soothing
Sight. Wrapped up
In blankets I smile.