Pleasure
I wake to the sound
of rain typing
a poem
on the camper roof.
I’m alone
for a change,
my bed a cool lake
of dreams.
I stretch
from corner
to corner
from thought
to thought. My
fingers tap
an imaginary
keyboard
on the sheets,
the rhythm
of my heart
slowed to a couplet.
5 comments:
Half dreaming..half forming words..maybe there is no better place to be..seems like a little writing (or thinking) cocoon that camper van..Jae
Your lovely piece reminded me of how much I used to enjoy the sound of rain pitter-pattering on my tent roof when I was younger and being lulled away into another world. Thank you for that!
There is something quite lulling about the sound of rain on the roof and you inside warm and relaxed. I loved your pun at the end when your heart was slowed to a couplet to match the rhyme. Great poem.
I love listening to the pitter patter of rain on a car roof...Can't stand to hear a dripping tap though.
This is so gentle, dreamy, lovely.
There is nothing as soothing as the sound of rain on the roof. This reminds me of when as a child, I used to get in the car on a rainy day with a big stack of comic books!
Post a Comment