Thread: Challenge 7th May 2009; A weather event.

OK your subject for the next challenge is

A Weather Event

I thought about being specific but decided to leave it to you, you can be as literal or as metaphoric as you like, give a straight description of a sunny day out or darken the skies and drown us in the drizzle of a failed relationship. Up to you, I'll be back to add a poll in two weeks, good luck.

Jacket weather (Off the cuff)



They say when it rains; no one can see you cry
When it shines, everyone covers their eyes

Snowy cold with indoor warmth
Lightning fury, thunderous glow

Mercury rising, indicating the norm
Sky cloud dancing, here comes the storm.

Weatherman, his shiny suit; demanding attention without respect

Island Weather.



The rising wind is strong from the South West
Crossing the Atlantic, filling the Channel
Driving waves to the sea wall breast.

The white horses have foam flecked mouths
Straining reins, shaking free of trammel
Like messengers carrying truths.

Returning inland to the garden, a line of trees
Storm tossed, swaying, losing leaves
Reduce it to a simple breeze.

Stormbrought
(A Sonnet For Ungrateful Raingods)

These clouds found me as a child,
and followed as close as loving wife.
Made me a leper to the Folk O' Mild,
sent Timidites fleeing for their life.
My mind, this gale, bent towards insane,
my back now bowed in hateful curve.
I'm soaked to skin with driving pain,
tempest tossed storms, cruel gods to serve.
But a smile will blow from heart to face,
(sent questing over dry cracked plain)
I become a King of some bleak place,
when I find a Queen who prayed for rain.

Cursed or kissed or blessed forever,
above all by this heavy weather.

It’s dry an’ hot an’ dusty
There’s no water in the creek
The vegibles is dyin’
An’ I missed me bath larst week.

The sun beats down on hard-packed earth
In this land of hope an’ failure
But George the Third, the lunatic
Had said, God Bless Orstraylya.

That poxy sot did not know owt
About the weather ‘ere
Writin’ pomes is much too ‘ard
So I’ll go an’ ‘ave a beer


instead.

Once upon a stormy night, my love and I, we took our flight,
We grabbed our things and blundered, quickly, swiftly through the rain,
Laden then and quickly running, escaping with a sort of cunning,
Swearing, cursing, we kept running, running so fast in the rain,
‘Come my sweet, we must escape, cunningly we run from pain,
Come my sweet, do not complain,’

Thunder rolled and lightning struck, we ran and prayed to Lady Luck,
I stumbled and the tears were flowing, the pace we set; hard to maintain,
I thought of sunshine; the previous day’s, of things that led us so astray,
I thought of Uncle and the beating, that previous day's delivered pain,
That storm that started in our house, despite the sun, which shone in vain,
That shining sun belied our pain.

Safe for awhile, I watched him sleeping, and when he slept I started weeping,
And when he woke we ran some more, my tears were hidden by the rain,
The babe inside me could be dying; the storm above seemed to be crying,
My babe is dying, crying, dying. Sanctuary we must obtain,
Flashing light brought hope ahead; a hope I hoped that would remain,
‘Come my sweet, out of the rain,’

The safety of a humble cottage, a few dim bulbs of little wattage,
A kind man took us in, and wrapped us up, and then I felt a pain,
A child was born, though never living; the Gods above are unforgiving,
My love, he swore revenge on Uncle, and in his eyes, he’d gone insane,
Our boy was dead, the Uncle won, the storm went on, my love’s insane,
I felt the life within me drain.

My love; half crazed, left straight away, he said he’d make the Uncle pay,
The kind man brought me something just to ease the pain,
My body bled there was no stopping, my vital signs; severely dropping,
I’d die right there, next to my baby, I’d die right there still damp from rain,
I was born in a storm, my mother once told me, she told me before she was slain,
I'd die in one too, and find her again.

That's it folks. Time to stop submitting and start deciding which you like best.

The Ox has it... But you misspelt "barf"

My vote goes to the Ox... by a head.

Originally Posted by Baron

you misspelt "barf"

Thanks.
I had in fact spelt it that way then out of consideration for the Americans on site for whom the word is synonymous with vomit changed it.

Leyline's Sonnet.

Originally Posted by The Backward OX

Thanks.
I had in fact spelt it that way then out of consideration for the Americans on site for whom the word is synonymous with vomit changed it.

Unusual for an Australian, thought it was a national pastime, I am reminded of Barry Humphries,

I've had liquid laughs in bars
And I've hurled from moving cars
I've chundered when and where it pleases me
But the thing I like the best
Is get some prawns beneath my vest
And chunder in the old Pacific sea.

Thanks for voting folks.

Originally Posted by Olly Buckle

Unusual for an Australian, thought it was a national pastime, I am reminded of Barry Humphries,

I've had liquid laughs in bars
And I've hurled from moving cars
I've chundered when and where it pleases me
But the thing I like the best
Is get some prawns beneath my vest
And chunder in the old Pacific sea.

Thanks for voting folks.

That great anbassador of Antipodean Culture...

We make fun, but actually if you consider the size of the population against America for example Australia is well represented by some literate members here.

Yes, but we have more cannon fodder. Aha!