On the Prowl


The sun lost the battle.

Clouds rammed their way over the Med
Gathering strength like Vandals on the prowl.
They invaded the land, rushed the mountain, took it over,
A place from which to determine strategy
And what is worth plundering.
The wind, cold and fickle lashes out in cruel gusts,
Shaking the jasmine and the bougainvillea.
And yet to the south, some torn patch of blue lets in hope of warmth.

But these clouds are out of control,
Gathering, marshaling their number where there is no more room
Sucking color out of the world
Clothing the sky in pewter grey
Until fat drops lapidate tender roses who bend their foreheads to the ground…

“So be it” they sigh.

Erasing the mountain

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
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21 Responses to On the Prowl

  1. Les peres de tes nuages restent toujours ici en Ecosse, plus gris, plus lourds, plus bas.
    Et vraiment moins poetiques!


  2. john zande says:

    You have such a wonderful mind, Emmy. To animate nature like you do is a gift.


  3. makagutu says:

    Please come to Nairobi, the sun won the epic battled against the clouds πŸ˜€


  4. Marvelous writing


  5. PapaBear says:

    Good morning, Emm,
    A wonderful description of the onset of a springtime storm…, such activity, such power…, and then the rain. Beautifully done.


    • emmylgant says:

      Thank you Paul. Yes it was quite a storm. We received a month’s worth of rain in 24 hours. My immediate area was not flooded but a couple of local rivers jumped their banks. It has been a very difficult spring for farmers all over France. I hope your day is splendid.


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