As grey clouds of sky
pour forth the rain,
my breath is caught
by nature's fury,
as hard and durable
as granite rock.
As the storm quiets,
layers have been washed away,
mother nature lulls
the panic stricken.
Yet through it all
there are scents and smells
of new earth
in weathered purity.
Stains on bark
of storm lashed trees,
evoke images
of magical depth.
A sweet time
of land's renewal,
as she gives creatures her magic
of rainbow's eternal colours.
Author notes
WORDS USED IN ORDER - GREY, CLOUDS, SKIES, RAIN, BREATH, GRANITE, WASHED, WEATHERED, STAINS, WOOD.
A contest entry
- "Words Are The Daughters Of Earth" by malkinpuss.
1000 points, ended May 16, 2007, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 5 of 5
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I can smell that fresh earth mist. A beautiful tribute to the wonder of nature within its complex web. Awe inspiring and life affirming
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Wonderful!
This poem struck a cord within me. The title fits the write so well. Cycles of weather and weathering...quite magical! I love rain and nature and granite which, tough as it is ... weathers! In nature nothing is exempt!
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nicely done...
kudos to you... very well written... beautiful imagery... I am impressed at the ay you combined the words from the word bank...
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wow beautifal as always
just wow
well done and good luck -
Wow this is beautifully inspiring.
An affirmation to love life in the least.
Well done!
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