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 Aug 2019 Vic
kain
Day Twenty-Six
 Aug 2019 Vic
kain
I'm writing this
From the top of the hill
Black berries in my palm
Thinking of you
Maybe you'll think of me
Up in your room
Barred off from the world
A twisted fairytale
But we aren't Rapunzel
We aren't Disney quality
Who wants a homoflexible prince
And a purple haired queen
Besides your hair
Isn't quite that long
And I don't own a horse
But I do have some letters from you
And you have some from me
Maybe I'll travel around today
And see if you got back to me
I hope you did because I miss
Everything about you dear
I hope you might just
Think of me sometimes
When times get tough
And words aren't enough
I can be your rock to hold you up
And I can be you anchor
To keep you grounded
You can be my muse
The subject of all my dreams
We can be a lot of things
Rapunzel is not one of them
200th poem. Cool or pitiful? Undecided.
 Aug 2019 Vic
Growly Wolfus
Raindrop
 Aug 2019 Vic
Growly Wolfus
A single raindrop falls from the sky,
depressed in its loneliness as it descends.
It lands and drips down a grassy *****,
alone and forgotten.

A single raindrop falls from the sky.
It falls from dark clouds and gloomy air.
It brings nothing but sadness to the earth below
and desires only to be heard or seen.

A single raindrop falls from the sky,
felt only by a stranger.
It's wiped away, declared a nuisance,
and cast away from existence.

A single raindrop falls from the sky,
mistaken for a tear.
Thought to be from an angel of a lost age.
It merely stirs the dust.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
all lonely but together.
They cause a splash and demand attention.
Still only felt by one.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky,
unable to quench the earth's thirst.
They disappear, taken by the ground,
embraced for the last time.

A hundred raindrops fall from the sky.
Not a head turns to notice them.
They cry out loudly but cannot be heard,
vanishing as they land.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky.
The clouds gather to watch the spectacle.
They grow darker as they bunch together,
warning those below of the coming.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky
and tap people on the shoulder.
"Come watch us," they whisper before leaving.
Few people are left behind.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
looking for an audience.
The people have left and taken their friends
to hide in the buildings they made.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
and joyously, they sing.
They hit the ground, the cars, the roofs,
and make music for those in hiding.

A million raindrops fall from the sky.
They dance and cheer and smile.
The sun decides it wants to watch.
The light dances with raindrops for awhile.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
accompanied by rays of gold.
They bring new color to the city of gray
and rejuvenate all of the old.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and makes art upon the ground.
It quenches the earth's thirst and hums in our ears,
dancing to its own sound.

A gentle rain falls from the sky.
People watch with awe from behind glass.
Ignored by many, precious to captivated few.
They long for it to last.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and gracefully sways in the breeze.
It brings forth calmness and a sense of peace.
It blesses the green fields and trees.

A gentle rain falls from the sky,
watched by a child with wonder.
It sends the breeze to lift the child
and brings them out from under.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and splashes on window panes.
It plays with the child and hums sweet tunes
as it makes puddles in the traffic lanes.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and ripples in the water.
A new world created, impossibly calm.
It makes the child an offer.

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and whispers in the child's ear.
"Wait for me.  I will return.
I won't leave you alone here."

A gentle rain falls from the sky
and sings goodbye to the child.
The clouds dissipate as the sun takes over.
The departing rain simply smiles.

A million raindrops fall from the sky,
murmuring farewells and goodbyes.
Each gives the child a tender hug
as the color returns to the skies.

A thousand raindrops fall from the sky,
then a hundred, then one.
The single raindrop kisses the child
standing alone in the sun.

No longer do raindrops fall from the sky,
but a child waits for them.
To dance and sing and draw and play,
with the gentle rain again.
I LOVE the rain.  I wrote this after a gentle rainfall and listening to one of my favorite songs.
The child in the poem does not necessarily represent age, but more awe and feelings I have when I watch the rain.  It's so peaceful.  I feel like a child whenever I watch it or sit in it.
Kiss the Rain - Yiruma
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so6ExplQlaY
 Aug 2019 Vic
Joy
Dum da dum
 Aug 2019 Vic
Joy
Hip
         n'Hop
   Drrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruum
      We
              d
                  r
                     o
                         p
and                       poP

Drip goes the coke
Ba dum DA dum
         goes the heart





well today's a happy start.
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