Sunday, April 8, 2018

IT RAINED LAST NIGHT/The Sunday Whirl World #346

    

IT RAINED LAST NIGHT

The April wind a crazy howl

I slept in snatches

That old wind growled

And screamed

Like the devil himself

No stranger to a sleepless night

In my dreams I painted stripes

Down a long avenue

Where I drove

Until the morning light

Switched on and the day began

The alarm turned off

Breakfast a piece of toast

Lightly buttered

The bread not as fresh as I like

The coffee hot with cream

You won’t be shy when you come for tea


April 8, 2018

 

 

14 comments:

Sabra Bowers said...

Well wordled. I really like I slept in snatches. I can relate to that kind of sleep.

Myrna R. said...

I heard those winds, way down here. I'm intrigued by your last line.

ayala said...

I am intrigued by the last line as well. Those winds are full of fury.

hyperCRYPTICal said...

Well wordled indeed!
I shall come for tea, but will insist on being shy!
Anna :o]

Sherry Blue Sky said...

Love the sound of that wind howling, as it did here yesterday. Today is like a summer's day, in contrast.

Wendy Bourke said...

I enjoyed this wonderfully rendered piece, replete with evocative images. It confers the feeling one gets, curling up with a good book that winds to an intriguing end.

Anonymous said...

Nicely crafted with food for thought.

R.K. Garon said...

Sweet! I'm on my way : )

Julian said...

am i crazy to think of this piece as a good haibun?

Jim said...

Like this, Annell. A nice rundown of the night and morning activities and doings. I liked the aside, of "bread not as fresh as I like." It would be much better if you made it into French toast. The French call it "used bread" but I can't remember the French word for 'used'.
..

Sarah Russell said...

You captured the wind’s sounds well. Intriguing last line. I like where it took me.

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I can't seem to find your A L' Arora poem, annell, but I enjoyed very much reading this one.

kaykuala said...

Rain can mess up the evening. But of more concern rain can impact on the ensuing dreams to the detriment of a person

Hank

Susan said...

A new favorite! We seem helpless and wistful, but find control possible in our arts and friendships. In another mood, I might find doing in my dreams what I do all day as nightmarish and never ending, but the tone here implies safety in the daily rituals of waking and serving. Let the devils howl as they may.