Christopher P. P. White

Rookie (23/12/1983 / Derby, England)

That Old Umbrella

When all that rain fell towards the earth
Like an almighty stream from the sky,
The only thing we both held onto was
That old umbrella.

We spent the time in each other's pockets
Like there was nobody and nothing else,
Only us and our contented souls at peace
Through the storm.

I look back to those moments and I laugh
Like the world isn't as hellish as I think it is
Because there were those moments that had us
Holding onto each other.

I don't accept that we gave up and lost touch
Like the empty promise of an open wound
Because we always held onto our soaking hands
In that heavy rain—

Fingers locked around that old umbrella,
Keeping our bodies dry and our lips soft.
Keeping our words clear and our intentions pure.
Keeping our promises true.


The storm subsided and the rain stopped pouring
And that old umbrella gathered dust
Like the excitement and the laughter and the good times.

Submitted: Sunday, June 01, 2014

Topic of this poem: free verse


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  • Freshman - 1,251 Points Susan Lacovara (6/1/2014 9:26:00 AM)

    I was happy to be drenched in the downpour of this poem. You manage to connect the dots of our memories of simple times shared by two, alone. Wonderful I wish for rain and a hand to hold under an umbrella.
    PEACE (Report) Reply

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