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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VJ

Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

63 thoughts on “Waiting On the Storm”

      2. 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.

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  13. 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 ā€˜forlornā€™, which isnā€™t used much these days but is so expressive.

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  14. “Natureā€™s wrath seldom a passing sigh;” Truth. A very nicely constructed triolet! Wondering where on earth you are that you are facing a tropical storm… but maybe that’s a nunya. šŸ™‚

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  20. 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!

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      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 šŸ™‚ 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.)

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