Monday, June 21, 2010

And Now for Something Completely Different.


The photo brought up the words. Don't read any more into it than necessary :-) In actuality, I'm in Moose slippers waching Mythbusters.

The summer sky is scheming
as ravening thunder rumbles
your face distant in the mist
obscure as dark, rolling clouds
your voice in my ear, resonating
making me need

Lightning flashes, strikes
piercing my defenses
hard shafts of light
torching my earth
drops of rain
striking the earth like bullets
piercing my defenses

I long for your hand on
my damp skin
the wind coming in
hot breath on my neck
a gasp
then hard honeyed raindrops
impellent wetness
to soak the needy ground
Brigid

10 comments:

reflectoscope said...

If that is what you get for writing wearing moose slippers, then you should wear them more often.

Jim

Thor said...

But who trained the Moose?

I sense a theme starting.

Joseph said...

I have duck slippers. But they have never given me inspiration like this...I may have to give the moose a try.

john bord said...

The Grand Teton moose is sauntering that a way....

Great verse...
thx

Marlowe said...

One of your best, you know.

Cond0010 said...

Whew! My computer monitor is all steamed up!

(* Squeak, squeak *)

There. Much better.

"I'm in Moose slippers waching Mythbusters."

What? No bear claw slippers? I gots to gets me a pair of them....

Nice poem, Brigid, though it may not be healthy for a guy on the late night graveyard shift to be reading stuff like this. Not that I am complaining, mind you. :)

Its been a while since you've wrote a poem. Don't stop.

"...a Moose in some National Park..."

ermmm... I was thinking more of a Moose and Flying squirrel, but thats close enough. :)

MO Bro said...

"I'm in Moose slippers watching Mythbusters.", but, as they say in gift giving, "It's the thought that counts." Great poem there, Lady B.

highdiver_2000 said...

Hmm you got frisky watching two mustachioed men?

Ed Foster said...

Interesting picture. Put a little sky blue in one of the upper corners and it might be a Van Gogh. Starry starry night...

Andy said...

"Nothin' up my sleeve... Presto!"

ROOOOAAAAWWWWRRR!

"And now here's something we hope you REALLY like."