After The Rain…
I love a old gravel road
with numbers ( no name)
on hot summer evenings
still wet from the rain..
Where Deep in the silence
i hear not a sound
as nature is drinking
from A water soaked ground..
soon there’s a chatter
of birds in the trees..
shaking their feathers
as they hide nieth the leaves.
I park near the curve
Just to listen to things
like left over rain drops
falling after the rain..
Just looking at trees
and those things inbetween
after a late evening shower
is a heart warming thing…
as the warmth of the day
starts to rise from the ground..
i see fog is forming
and head back to town.
There’s nothing as peaceful
that i can name..
as the smells of a backroad
After the rain…
Picture & poem by connetta
“Where Deep in the silence
i hear not a sound
as nature is drinking
from A water soaked ground..” Loved the imagery here
Oh, Connie, this is beautiful. I’ve been so busy, I haven’t visited your blog for a few days; now, to come back and find this. You have triggered old memories and made me yearn for spring.
i like this one, i actually felt i was there, brought back some child hood smells and sunlight
Ahh, I see you now. This is good, lyrical writing. It’s gentle rhythm and rhyme (not easy for me to do!) and the last line is splendid. ‘blackroad…’
And well done with the photo too!
Simply beautiful,and inviting.Hope to be able to join you on a day like that SOON. c