Gray drops paint charcoal shadows on the skin.
They wear the windowpanes of old souls thin.
Hold out your hand against the falling light.
Believe with me that rain is infinite.
The mood is fragile as a curtain lace,
Such filigree no weather could replace.
Your fingers brush a brief tear from my eye.
Such tenderness deserves a warm reply.
Copyright,2009, Sandra Fowler
sadness, love and tenderness nicely etched with those characoal shadows on your canvas -10 anjali
Sandra, it's an outstanding poem. I love this poem. Top score.
'Hold out your hand against the falling light. Believe with me that rain is infinite'. I felt only to repeat these wonderful lines x
the warm effusing touch cannot be compensated by any other materialistic riches... a wonderful write!
A good mingling of rain with the mood of humankind with rain signifying its both facets one being the joy and the other in the form of tears when one is in deep melancholy. A beautiful symbolic poem reflecting the flow of warmth of love and sadness ingrained in the charcoal shadows. Best Regards Naseer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gray drops paint charcoal shadows on the skin ...............Good line and excellent poem Madam Enjoyed reading it