After Rain.

a seriously revised and condensed version of a very old poem of mine. i feel this one is a lot better in many ways. would appreciate your opinion. ^^

After fleeting falls of rain
Drops wend down the weeping pane,
And frame the woeful sodden fields
As passing rain clouds frown.

The trees stripped bare by winter’s hands
Rip the skies and clutch the lands
A sky, like milk, or palest silk,
It wears like a silver crown.

Though in summer’s golden glow,
Crimson poppies often grow,
The field tilts back its sorry head
As rain comes tipping down.

After I reread the poem (I had read through it quickly the first time because it has that kind of pull) I understood it more... i think. Its about the seasons right? Well, if I'm wrong I like it anyway. It's very good, and the way that everything fell into place and fit together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle was astounding. It just made the poetry even better. Someone could write A Million poems about the changing season and never have a reader who understands them. This poem has it's own flow, its own "music", and your able to understand what it's about... lol I guess this last part is going against what I said earlier huh? lol. Anyway IF I'm right take all this to heart. If I'm not... I'll be embarassed.

Gorgeous words right there. I usually don't like rhyming poems, because of my own horrid prejudices, but this one was very good. I personally don't get much out of it other than the language, which i have already mentioned. I think perhaps its not about the seasons but merely a meditation on a dreary field in some awful cold month.

Either way, keep it up
keep it right up

PS: Great George Carlin quote.

This part, is the best, I think:

Though in summer’s golden glow,
Crimson poppies often grow,
The field tilts back its sorry head
As rain comes tipping down.

For some reason, I really like it; especially the last two lines. Fantastic finish. :3

Wonderful poem, i'm having trouble finding the meaning but in my opinion the words are more than meaning here.

The trees stripped bare by winter’s hands

Rip the skies and clutch the lands

A sky, like milk, or palest silk,

It wears like a silver crown.


That stanza has no flaw. Its beautiful. Professional in rhyme. Well done, great poem. Think about clarifying the meaning - if there is one - maybe even through a title or something. I dont see a need for it but others may

i very very much enjoyed reading this poem. the rythm flowed nicely, and although i didn't really take time to figure out the rhyme scheme, it seemed creative enough to me, in a good way.

i really liked your imagery, you did a fantabulous job with that. i especially like the bit:

"After fleeting falls of rain

Drops wend down the weeping pane",

even though i have never heard the word "wend" before, and im not sure if it is a typo or if i am just stupid, but the latter is highly probable. so overall, wonderful job, i had very much fun reading it...good poems that aren't depressing make me very happy. thank you.

p.s. i know it has nothing to do with your poem, but i thought i would mention that i very much like your avatar, i think it is precious.

wow that was extremely good vocabulary and it capture the scene perfectly.
i dont much like your combination of rhyme and non-rhyme, but thats just my opinion.

hey there,

Beauty in words is not the demise of gods power of creation of tangibles. Rather its our inheritance from him. The poem was beautiful. Excelsior.

The passing of seasons has a certain amount of romanticism to it. That is to say that each season has its own serenity, movement, dynamism, novelty, beauty, and intrigue beyond words.

The turning of spring into summer into fall into winter into spring again; that is the beauty of nature's wonders.
You enjoy them that's why it reflects so gorgeously in your poem.
I have no problems with your rhyming schemes. It provides a simplistic yet elaborate fineness to the work.

"...A sky, like milk, or palest silk,

It wears like a silver crown."

Here since you are trying to describe the sky as a 'silver crown', I think you should have in place of "milk" used another metaphor, maybe something like ivory ; and you could have put of before 'palest silk', which would help you connect 'or' with 'palest silk'.

With complete attention, landscape celebrates that liturgy of the seasons, giving itself unreservedly to the passion of the goddess.
John O'Donohue
Source: Anam Cara: A Book of Celtic Wisdom

the_vizier

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Thank you all very much for your fab comments! I thought for the sake of others who may or may not read this, i'd explain it a little more. I accept that i shouldn't have to and that the poem should speak for itself but... win some, lose some! So, here we go...


It's basically me looking out my bedroom window in Autumn at one of the fields across the road. Simply, i was describing the landscape of the field after rain.
Also, i mentioned poppies and summer because i felt that even though the field was in come seasons golden and warm, it seemed to forget it, and grieve about the weather.

That was all, simple enough!


Thanks for reading and commenting and things!!

From charlie. x