Author: Elizabetta


When the corners of his muted strawberry lips
gradually ascend to form a perfect arch,
like a rainbow across his visage
it's like the rise of the early August sun
that leisurely creeps, scaling the horizon
showering the honey-hued wheat fields
bathing, the rolling, emerald hills
with the tenderness of its gilt light.
Not a different sun, arrives at his window
a solitary thin sheet of glass
the only thing separating the air
that I breath in deeply as I sit here on a stone
my feet dangling just out of the reach
of the lapping waves of the lake below
from that which he involuntarily gulps as he sleeps.
Its rays glide through the pane and scamper about his room
Walking on the ceiling, sliding under the bed
then finally coming to rest
on the mild ivory skin
of his peaceful dreaming face.
This gentle caress stirs the sleeping
long graceful eyelashes flutter
two deep charcoal pools are revealed
and like black holes, suck everything in.

When the rays penetrate his eyes,
At the speed of light, pupils begin to dart and roll
Just as a herd of fierce sable storm clouds
that pound in over the plains,
form an ominous canopy over bustling cities
and rumble down a dusty country road
to blanket the plush grassy knoll, that I've chosen as chair.
I see the storm approach,
and hear it call out, a booming cry of power
my mother always told me, it was just the angels
bowling a few frames in heaven
still an icy glaze take siege my heart
I feel like nothing more than one, insignificant blade
of the grass on which I sit.
I overflow in the form of a tear.

The single salty drop trickles down my cheek
not unlike one from the clouds above
that joined by another and another still
Dances on warm tin roofs
Playing a melody more beautiful than any that could be composed
Soaks into the soil
Catalyst for growth and renewal
Or loses itself in a rushing river,
carried of to join the sea.
Splatters sidewalks, makes mud out of dirt.
Ends the local Little League game, tied in the third inning
sending feature Major Leaguers home on their bikes
their disappointed tears mixing with the falling rain.
That same rain causes me to run frantically
toward a shelter that does not exist
Yet beckons him out of the house, barefoot
to feel the rain embrace his skin
with a touch like cashmere cotton candy
and splash in the rain,
just as when he was young

When it seems he's jumped
in each and every puddle
he walks through the gutter
a raging river in its own right
to the rough asphalt of the street
as cars drive by, their splashes adding to the rain
that already poured down on him
he stands looking at the rolling clouds
the same ones reflected in his eyes
and listening to their gasping howls.
Till finally, the drops spread apart, and come slower
the clouds close up and began to move away
ready to roll on to the next town
Heaven's eyes cry no more tears
climbing slowly, once again comes the sun
joined by the spectrum of colors in his smile.


Comments on this poem/writing:

Martin V ( -- Thursday, February 6 2003, 11:09 pm

I Can't reach the height of all your heart's words, but..,

Eliabetta, I felt some form of heated passion expressed in your work here. Perhaps two mature lovers come together and then by nature's mercy, are sent upon their different ways? I felt, adults spoke of love here, shared it, then turned back in time, to be children again? Then adults again, a cycle of life and love. That is what I felt and enjoyed the rain and rainbow. To say more would be labor and superficial, what I have just said, YOU, allowed me to feel and ponder.

Thank you!

If you feel so gracious, please tell me what I have missed, perhaps I missed it all, its your words I want to understand, if, its possible, a man can. I want to know, I am lost somewhat, Hell, a lot, in these words put forth by your heart. Although private, I know your words are yours, but you placed them on this Poet's table, be kind to us, tell us more about their meaning, they excite me with a need to know. Take your guests at least this one, where he has never gone before, your words lead, but I know not where I go much less how to get there. Tell me more, Lady E, I "want to know" the meaning and complete message of all these words! Take pity upon one who's sole is less knowing then your own, for my mine can not compete with your words, yet I need to understand, each and every line. I need and want to be connected. I am lost yet, a part of this lovely, presentation.

Martin V
Meri ( -- Saturday, November 10 2018, 05:14 am

Yet another great read

So much description and action. Yes!
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