Waiting On the Storm

The air hangs heavy and yet I shiver,
threat of rain clouds the forlorn sky;
high above the palm leaves quiver,
the air hangs heavy and yet I shiver
even birdsong has become a wither
Nature’s wrath seldom a passing sigh;
the air hangs heavy and yet I shiver,
threat of rain clouds the forlorn sky.

(An attempt at a triolet for Jilly who is hosting the dVerse pub tonight.)

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59 comments

  1. This is terrific! The bird song serves as a perfect pivot point in this poem and your words resonate with me – seldom a passing sigh. Your photo of the palm tells of tropical storms and they are certainly never a passing sigh! Well done, VJ!

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I keep a copy of Rob Brewer’s list of forms and from time to time I pick one and give it a try. Except for the Welsh forms – those are just killers 🙂 Glad to be the nudger! (That variety of palm tree in your photo is the one that fared the worst in last year’s hurricanes – gave me a shiver.)

        Liked by 1 person

  2. There is so much emotion packed into your triolet, V.J., and it conveys the threat of rain so well. The repetition makes it sound mournful, especially the word ‘forlorn’, which isn’t used much these days but is so expressive.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I used to be an English teacher, lol, and would have caught that. I now suffer inflammation on the brain and somedays struggle with basic concepts, especially when I’m overtired.

        Like

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