Gene Williamson

The Raindrop - Poem by Gene Williamson

In the misty calm after the storm,
inside the perfect raindropp dripping
from the index finger of a lofty blue babe,
one of Shakespeare's young and rose-lipp'd cherubin
doing a balancing act on the temple facade,
there stands Marie, lady of exquisite beauty,
her face framed in fiery auburn hair,
her emerald eyes as brilliant as the nearest star,
her full lips a seductive invitation
to the tall knight dismounting his silver steed.
Sir Will plucks a golden snapdragon from her hair,
takes her in his arms and places her on a bed
of shamrocks. They tremble as their lips meet
under the watchful cherub hovering above.
Their liquid world, except in moments
of gentle updraft, is, like the moon, a captive
of the earth's pull. Marie and her gallant Will cling
to each other in a lifetime embrace, each
aware only of the other's warmth,
until the droplet touches earth and evaporates
in a pool of blinding light.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about The Raindrop by Gene Williamson

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Monday, April 7, 2008

Poem Edited: Tuesday, April 8, 2008

[Report Error]