Sunday, March 21, 2004

Longing for a rainy night

It's Sunday night and I confess I feel like I have a hangover - at least it feels like what people have described a hangover to me to be...


My head hurts, my spirit feels full and stuffy, and my body wants to go to bed/doesn't want to go to bed.


Time for some inspiration.


 



From Grasmere, for Louis Squires


Rainstorms that blacken like a headache
where mosses thicken, and the mornings
smell of jonquils, the stillness
of hung fells thronged with the primaveral
noise of waterfalls?contentment
pours in spate from every slope; the lake fills,
kingcups drown, and still it rains,
the sheep graze, their black lambs bounce
and skitter in the wet: such weather
one cannot say, here, why
one is still so happy.


Amy Clampitt (1920-1994)


 

3 comments:

  1. It's funny how this poem awakens in me that faint reminder of storms and how I love them. Maybe its the "...and still it rains," But I think I love a good snowstorm too in a way. Maybe it is just the good feeling that comes from being inside and dry(or warm,as the case may be). And this poem is not even about a storm - more like a heavy steady rain. One of those things that just brings back long ago memories perhaps.

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  2. did Jed's wife write that?

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  3. It's interesting to dwell on the stormy, the moody, the dark nights when we so often we are focussed on happiness and sunny days. Thanks.

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