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jerry dreesen

a poem in an unexpected place :>)

How Rain Sounds

It’s raining here - a soft
pebbling on the window.
I thought of you while watching
weathered silver changed to pewter,
how you might use this as metaphor
for something else, something you know
but keep at a comfortable distance.

Strange how the unseen can see things -
like Braille, finger-tips absorbing
thought from the tiniest rise in paper,
following along its path until it all makes sense
and you are where you want to be,
listening to the rain, amazed at how it sounds-
like a poem you love reading again and again.




This WAS unexpected. And a delight. I think I remember this poem--it is very familiar. It is lovely and I thank you for posting it on this blog. Your last line is true, "like a poem you love reading again and again." That is exactly how I feel about Yeats' Lake Isle of Innisfree.


jerry dreesen

Thank you, Carol.

Yes, it's an old poem with the ending slightly reworked.

Happy Poetry Month :>)



Carol, what a lovely idea you had. And I loved the unexpected post by Jerry.

Happy Easter.


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