Painting Rain

a sorrowful new dawn descends
in rainstorms painted by the night
which in their darkened shades do render
glassy shadows to the light.

no watercoloured dreams are these
its strokes are bold and without guile
and draughted with such cold unease
ill comfort in both form and style.

so paints the rain in this last spring
yet soon an artist young awakes
with pastel palette colours singing
for when summer’s first morning breaks.

The Mad Man’s Words

all is gently dying
so extolled the mad man’s words
all the life fades from the world
and no melodies are heard,

but he is mad and sees not spring
save for graves freshly turned
yet here too does life sing out
for debts from winter earned.

all is gently growing
birthed in hesitant new days
so we’ll forget the mad man’s notes
whilst death is hid away.