This peaceful moment:

You, me, and the sound of rain.

A soft percussion,

Dropping bubbly brook beats,

That crescendos rapidly.

Just as abruptly,

My words will dry on the page,

Where they will remain,

Untouched, perhaps forgotten,

Until the next storm passes.

Winter froze my muse,
But each letter, word, and verse~
Thaws the deepest freeze.
Poetry is my spring rain,
My unashamed thunderclap.


Ignoring my doubt,
My heart stumbles forward with,
Unannounced passion.
Like this storm of wind and rain,
There is no way to tame me.