In praise of England. |
| Our Daily Rain Speak not of clouds but the sky, grey with its misty burden lowered upon the earth, its edges whispered into the air we breathe, damp, clinging, wet with the pinprick silvered drops magically coating the fibres of our clothes, caressing our souls with the essence of the sodden earth, our skin touched by the fingers of the soft rain, gently, brushing our hands and eyelids, turning at last to placid showers, perhaps to downpour to fill the brooks, the streams, the rivers, and so define this place, this land of water, this grey and pleasant England. Give us this day our daily rain, and forgive us our umbrellas. Line Count: 20 Free Verse (of course) For The Daily Poem: WdC Birthday Edition, Sept. 05 2020 Prompt: Listen to today's instrumental song (Eluvium - Prelude for Time Feelers) and write a poem based on wherever the music takes you. |