whirl – Jovis on a Journey…

The wind howled drowning out the shrieks of crows
As they harried and swooped at the buzzard above
Forcing him yet again to drop his hard-won prey
And as the clouds thickened, and sky darkened,
All signs of light started to fade from the day.
A mighty thunderous storm was surely on its way.

Once more, I emptied the bucket, that now
Seems to permanently live in the loft
Always waiting, to catch that single drop of water
That somehow manages to find its way
Through the edge of the roof tiles, to drip
In perfect correlation with the rain.

Then it began…

It started with a gentle pitter-patter
On the sun-lounge roof where it is always first noticed
Soon lightning flashed in its startling iridescence
Of pink and blue, to prove to us its presence
Shortly followed by the long mighty crash
Of thunder as it tried desperately to catch up

And with it came a reservoir of rain

At the windows it rushed so break-neck fast
It seemed they would surely just burst or smash
A bird-table outside in the garden fell
With a loud breaking-to-pieces crash
And flower pots took to the air in unison.

Jugglers may spin plates around on sticks
I’ve seen more than a dozen spinning round
But the wind has no boundaries and hurled up high
Plastic pots of all colour and size and shape
Outside the window such a staggering sight
The pots now looked as if they were Heaven bound.

And then it stopped…

As suddenly as it had begun, the lightning disappeared
The thunder, after a last weak gentle rumble, fell silent
The rain changed to a light drizzle and finally stopped
It was as if it knew it had other places to call, and it had.
And in it’s wake the sun peered wearily from behind the clouds
Daylight returned, and once more a sense of calm descended.

And as the wind gradually faded to a gentler breeze
And saplings that had bent over stood up again like trees
A small cascade of flower pots quickly fell to the ground
And added to the mess that the short storm had left
I turned my back and walked away to my den
That would be a tidying task for who knows when!

©Joe Wilson – The storm…2015

He sat beneath the acacia tree
and watched the world go by
its green-golden leaves bouncing joyously
while the breeze caused a rustling sigh.
He thought about life as he’d lived it
as a son, and a father, and as a man
and he smiled at some of the memories
he remembered from when his journey began.

Playing with his brothers as a toddler
and his sister who’d cared for him so
he hoped they’d all known how he loved them
not often enough said years ago.
There’d been plenty of sadness on his journey
they lost their father, grandparents they hardly knew
he lost some friends on the way that he’d never forget
and sadly, there was his beloved brother too.

But sitting there under this particular tree
looking over his little back lawn
her face came into his mind now
it swept in as if on the wind-borne.
She’d come into his life as a saviour
he knew he’d been blessed all along
while he was a weak selfish person
she was so beautiful, and witty and strong.

Their first years together she’d carried him
thinking back he’d always known it was true
how he wished he’d been a much better person
“But you’re good”, she said, “and I chose you.”
The children came along and life really changed
no time then for the fast social whirl
yet neither would have chosen a different life
than the joy from their boy and their girl.

Some hardships inevitably changed things
but they carefully steered their way through
and their love remained strong as expected
the most important ingredient between two.
Their children grew up, made roads for themselves
after tenuous steps they too settled down
now the grandchildren help keep them both youthful
with such fun and energy that astounds.

So he sits there under the acacia
and the memories linger awhile
there’s thankfully so many happy memories
that recall always causes a smile.
Then he reaches across as the wind blows
a silver hair falling out of place
he pushes it away and back over her ear
as he kisses her still lovely face.