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In A Dark Night Of A Cape Winter

In a dark night of a Cape winter
fog rises from the plantation of pine trees
of which the scent is suddenly sharp everywhere
while the slight wind does not even stir the leaves,
or the sieving rain that is falling days without end.

Days later the southeast wind howls like an angry beast,
whipping trees to and thro, pulling even big oaks
right from their roots, throwing squalls of rain
splattering like continuous buckshot against the roofs,
against window panes and the coldness creeps in
and like a child you wonder when the angry beast
will again go to rest; go back to its hidden lair.

poem by Gert Strydom
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You Don't Care, You Can't Care

It's dark, dank and dreary
The Wind is cold and uncomforting
But I am just another Raindrop
That lands on your Leaves,
You stand rooted to the ground
Not even the Wind moves you
And the Rain touches you.

As I land on your Leaf,
Trying to retain, to remain there
Just for a second, to be a part of you;
The Wind blows me away 'whoosh'
And I am gone.
But you don't look back,
The Roots tell you 'no' as the
Wind continues to blow...

Lying on the ground, looking
Back up at what could have been
You stand there, alone, the
Wind howling, the Rain falling,
And you don't care,
You can't care. Is it the
Wind or the Rain? Or are you just too vain?

Strangely, stupidly, sadly; I
Give you another chance, I try
To talk to you, but you let the
Wind shake your Leaves, the
Rain fall on you, you watch
those Raindrops slide off you
Each and every one falls to the earth
You don't care, You can't care.

poem by E.D. French
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The Rain Is Like A Man

the rain this early morning
has an accompanying wind

i look at them by the window
my inner world divided by a thick glass

the trees are swaying and some leaves
begin to fall like some kind of a dance

the rain like a man carries the wind
on his arms and the wind leans down

i catch a glimpse of how they passionately kiss
it is sad and lonely and then the rain stops

the morning sun comes and the leaves
are at the feet of the trees kind of wet with tears.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like The Rain

I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
Every thunder cloud that came was one more I might not get through
On the darkest day theres always light and now I see it too
But I never liked the rain until I walked through it with you
I hear it falling in the night and filling up my mind
All the heavens rivers come to light and I see it all unwind
I hear it talking through the trees and on the window pane
And when I hear it I just cant believe I never liked the rain
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you Im falling for you now
Just like the rain
When the cloud is rolling over thunder striking me
Its as bright as lightning and I wonder why I couldnt see
That its always good and when the flood is gone we still remain
Guess Ive known all along I just belong here with you falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Liked the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now
Just like the rain I have fallen for you
Im falling for you know just like the rain
And when the night falls on our better days
And were looking to the sky
For the winds to take us high above the plains
I know that well find better ways to look into the eye
Of the storms that will be calling
Forever well be falling
Like the rain I have fallen for you, and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain I have fallen for you and I know just why you
Like the rain always calling for you, Im falling for you now just
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain
Like the rain

song performed by by Clint Black
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Winter (in answer to D. J. Opperman)

Through dark nights I am alone,
I am still missing you in this bleak season
while the storm wind blows strong in the rain,
I forget everything that love could do,
while I hear the storm moaning like a beast,
when the weather trembles wet against the windows,
then the naked trees do not have any leaves
and then suddenly everything around me gets silent,
over your life so completely wasted.

[Reference: "Voorwinter" "Pre-winter" by D. J. Opperman.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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When The Southeaster Really Starts To Blow

When the southeaster really starts to blow and jerk,
then white horses gallop down in the bay,
then bricks and oak trees are plucked out
when even big ships are tossed to and thro
and pine branches swing up and down,
when doves hide beneath roofs for the rain
and the people of Cape Town have barbeques in their homes,
when it feels as if the cold wants to turn you to stone,
as if the whole of nature is suddenly crying
and then I want to go to somewhere else.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Cloudburst (terzanelle)

The clouds are dark as the night
until the sky opens it sluices
with here and there light

pouring down gathered juices
with wild bolts of blue-white thunder
until the sky opens it sluices

with lightning falling with feelers, ready to plunder
splitting trees, setting the veldt alight
with wild bolts of blue-white thunder

bashing down, and people flee in fright
and hail, thunder and rain pelts down
splitting trees, setting the veldt alight

splattering in fury, causing people to drown
and man and beast is desolate
and hail, thunder and rain pelts down

with people struggling past fear, past hope, past hate.
The clouds are dark as the night
and man and beast is desolate
with here and there light.

poem by Gert Strydom
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How The Leaves Are Blown By The Wind

did i not tell you that these leaves come from the trees?
no dispute about it
about them, they grow out from there, those twigs
of the trees of life,
they get their glow, their sheen, though they have given more honor
to the sun
rather than the roots and the phloem

the season for them to mature and fall has come
and they all wait for the wind, the great strong wind to blow them all away
to their respective destinies
some find their way to the river
some to the thick heap of other leaves destined to rot
and only if you hear them
they say they come from nowhere
not from the tree of life
not from me

the leaves, my poems, the wind my way of throwing,
the tree, myself, my roots my mind, my phloem my blood

i made them all, but now, they are on their own

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Only The Wind

(tennant/lowe)
----------------
Its only the wind blowing litter all around
Just a little wind and the trees are falling down
Theres nobody crying, that was yesterday
Inside were all smiling, everythings okay
Its only the wind blowing cans along the street
Someones dustbin lid playing havoc with the peace
Theres nobody hiding behind a locked door
And no ones been lying, cause we dont lie any more
Its only the wind, how it takes you by surprise
Suddenly begins, then before you know it dies
My hands are not shaking, I dont touch a drop
You must be mistaken, I know when to stop
When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out
Its only the wind, they say its getting worse
The trouble that it brings haunts us like a curse
My nerves are all jangled, but Im pulling through
I hope I can handle what I have to do
When life is calmer, I have no doubt
No angry drama, a storm blows itself out
A storm blows itself out...
Im sorry

song performed by by Pet Shop Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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One summer when the wind was strong

This is the place, now we are here again

I remember that summer when the wind was strong
And everything around us was dry,

The acacia trees towered and showered us with
Round leaves falling and falling and falling

Some birds were there and they flew away
Some cars were there and they speeded away

It was getting dark and it was a dry summer
We stayed there for a while when the leaves fell

Then we went under the trees not seeking shelter
But to catch those leaves falling and falling and falling

We are trying to feel again what falling was
We are here on this summer, we see the leaves

Falling and falling again to the dry wind,
We try to recall about us, but there is simply

Nothing about us anymore, but just the same
The leaves fall and fall and fall, we see them reenacting

There is that meaning; there it is in the falling
But we have outgrown it, we look for more, we hope

We can find some more, something beyond us.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Fall is here!

The days are shorter
The suns rays are dimer
The wind starts to feel
Closer to winter

Trees leaves turn colors
Birds fly to where its warmer
The animals that can't fly
Prepare for the cold weather

Nights come quicker
The chilly breezes
Make you wear clothes
That are thicker
Trees leaves start to fall
At night the wind
Start to whisper

The season is changing
Time has fell back
This means winter is gaining
Nature is most precious
When the weather is changing

Hot long days and warmer nights
Traded for cool short days and chilly nights
Summer is over and fall is here!

poem by Jaycee Wilkerson
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The ghost Bereft

THE poor ghost came through the wind and rain
And passed down the old dear road again.

Thin cowered the hedges, the tall trees swayed
Like little children that shrank afraid.

The wind was wild and the night was late
When the poor ghost came to the garden gate;

Dank were the flower-beds, heavy and wet,
The weeds stood up where the rose was set.

The wind was angry, the rain beat sore
When the poor ghost came to its own house-door.

'And shall I find her a-weeping still
To think how alone I lie and chill?

'Or shall I find her happy and warm
With her dear head laid on a new love's arm?

'Or shall I find she has learned to pine
For another's love, and not for mine?

'Whatever chance, I have this to my store,
She is mine, my own, for evermore!'

So the poor ghost came through the wind and rain
Till it reached the square bright window pane.

'Oh! what is here in the room so bright?
Roses and love, and a hid delight?

'What lurks in the silence that fills the room?
A cypress wreath from a dead man's tomb?

'What sleeps? What wakes? And oh! can it be
Her heart that is breaking--and not for me?'

Then the poor ghost looked through the window pane,
Though all the glass was wrinkled with rain.

'Oh, there is light, at the feet and head
Twelve tall tapers about the bed.

'Oh, there are flowers, white flowers and rare,
But not the garland a bride may wear.

'Jasmine white and a white white rose,
But its scent is gone where the lost dream goes.

'Straight lilies laid on the strait white bier--
But the room is empty--she is not here!

'Her body lies here, deserted, cold;
And the body that loved it creeps in the mould.

'Was there ever an hour when my Love, set free,
Would not have hastened and come to me?

'Can the soul that loved mine long ago
Be hence and away, and I not know?

'Oh, then God's judgment is on me sore,
For I have lost her for evermore!'

And the poor ghost fared through the wind and rain
To its own appointed place again.

But up in Heaven, where memories cease
Because the blessed have won to peace,

One pale saint shivered, and closer wound
The shining raiment that wrapped her round.

'Oh, fair is Heaven, and glad am I,
Yet I fain would remember the days gone by.

'The past is veiled, and I may not know,
But I think there was sorrow, long ago;

'The sun of Heaven is warm and bright,
But I think there is rain on the earth to-night.

'O Christ, because of Thine own sore pain
Help all poor souls in the wind and rain.'

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Picnic

Thunder and rain
Went for a picnic
Upland of Daberry castle
They sat in the castle
And talked a little
When the south wind
Blew above the hill
The rain jumped up
And ran out with the wind.
In the wind
Thunder got angry
And shouted in rage,
Come back rain
And sit with me
But the rain moved
Fast with the wind
Thunder went on shouting
All over the sky.

poem by Dilipbhasker Mathra
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With blazing, electric blue thunder

(after Pablo Neruda)

With blazing, electric blue thunder
the morning is alive in this summer.

The wind tosses the threatening clouds like washing
torn from the line, waving goodbye without hands.

The mouthless harsh voice of the wind
howls right through our blissful silence.

Thunder bolts rock exploding in bright white light
while the wind rips leaves, branches and trees

as if in remembrance of long gone battles and wars
while it tosses squalls of pattering buckets of rain

sounding like the roar of a havoc orchestra
from the very gates of destruction, right from hell

while big oak trees sway as if only twigs,
some topple torn right out from their roots

and against me storm tossed in passion you are laying,
coming weightless full of fiery blazing desire,

with tender sweet lips that are kissing bringing bliss
and outside the wind roars as if its power is endless.

[Reference: “Es La Mañana Llena” “The Morning Is Full” by Pablo Neruda.]

poem by Gert Strydom
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The wind calls no one by their name

The wind calls no one by their name-
But howls and howls, before it wane.
Awakens at the dark of moon,
Circling mountains in the gloom,
Whistling high it's sovereign song-
That no one's on earth for long.

The wind has syllables unknown,
And for millenia has blown
Its keening cry, out on the plains,
Its fearsome dirge, that sounds like pain-
If you would learn the ways of wind,
All your days on earth would end.

The wind's capricious and alone,
And of true loneliness, it moans;
It knows no warmth of company,
But bland caresses of the trees.
The wind could take you far away-
To where no words could ever say.

poem by Patti Masterman
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A Journey Back To Ourselves

as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees

transparent and
cold

trees without
leaves

i imagine
twigs

or roots or
trunks

they are never
there

no matter how
trees are tears

without leaves
without roots

with so much
salt in each

and then you
touch the waves

of the imaginary
sea and then

your journey back
to you begins

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The night sky is crying

There’s an old story
that the holy word holds true,
which happened in a time like today
when people lived only for themselves
and thought that they had knowledge
of the things around them.

The ancient poetry of Gilgamesh
proclaims that story
which some see as just a myth
and it is part of the traditions
of many nations
across the earth
and it says that once
long ago there was a cataclysmic flood,
like non other:

The night sky is crying
and tears are streaming
down to the earth
in splattering sheets.

The sound of the weeping wind
howls through the trees
sweeping green and yellow leaves
from the branches.

Thunderbolt after thunderbolt
roars down from the clouded sky
as if the elements are in terror.

The rain turn into hail
and from hail
into a blizzard of rivers
falling from the air,
as if the creator
is emptying a unknown ocean
onto the earth.

Hurricane storm winds shatter
and huge waves
brake with great power
and the water keep on rising
and lighting storms bash continuously
until man and beast are dead,
but for the people and animals
in that one solitary ship
that is save while the Creator
protects them
and even the dark spirits
fear the anger of the Almighty God.

When ever I see a rainbow
the story comes to my mind
and the promise,
that water will not destroy
the world again.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Gale

Outside the mirrors, the dark, it fell.
The day seems squeezing the head into a sleepy dead.
The seagulls are swirling, at the approaching rain,
the leafs with their yellow faces, angry rustling
in the wind blowing away.
It is dark as night, clouds flowing in the sky, like black kites,
fading away in the murky air
The wet lamps, light the flooding oaks,
The day is wearing raining coat
shivering white and pale
by the winter raging gale.

poem by Luca Menin
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Rain,rain

Why am I here if youre there
So far away its not fair
To be without you like this
I miss you more than you know
The nights are long
The days slow
Without the warmth of your kiss
Wish you were back here with me
Cause out my window
All is see is
Rain , rain in the sky
Everywhere I look my eyes see
Rain , rain fallin down
Crying as it hits the ground
Rain , rain in my heart
Every day that were apart
Rain , rain
Falling rain , rain
Rain , rain
Only rain , rain
The sun is strong when youre near
But when youre gone it disappears
Behind an ocean of blue
The telephones not good enough
It cant reach out it cant touch
Me like the way you do
Wish you would knock at my door
Cause only you can stop the pouring
Rain , rain in the sky
Everywhere I look my eyes see
Rain , rain fallin down
Crying as it hits the ground
Rain , rain in my heart
Every day that were apart
Rain , rain
Falling rain , rain
Rain , rain
Only rain , rain
Maybe ill go outside
And walk beneath the clouds
Pretend its you thats watching over me
This isnt the only thing that comes
Between us now
Baby soon well be together
Oooo
( everywhere I look I see rain )
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Everywhere I look I see rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( everywhere I look I see rain )
Rain
( rain , rain in the sky )
( everywhere I look my eyes see rain )
Rain
( rain falling down )
Down
( crying as it hits the ground )
Dont , dont let it hit the ground
( rain , rain in my heart everyday that were apart )
( rain , rain )
Rain
( falling rain, rain )
Rain
( rain, rain )
Everywhere I look I see rain
Everywhere I look I see rain
But I dont see you
Youre not near me
I need you ooo
Rain
Itll never be the same
If you dont stop the rain

song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wind, wind everywhere

Wind here, wind there, wind wind everywhere.
In the trees, in the grass, wind comes to pass.
It cools off in summer, freezes in winter, and all in between.
Wind brings clouds and rain for the drain.

poem by Hannah Barton
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You get angry

You get angry
thats what death does
A light
A warmth on my face
The breeze through my hair
I smell the trees

You get angry
thats what death does
A heartbeat
A silent scream
Sinking
A coldness creeps in
Shadows dance in your eyes

You get angry
thats what death does
Not a death of the flesh
A death of the heart
The funeral of love
The welcoming of silence

Where you used to whisper...
I love you

poem by Lynzi Berner
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