by Britta Benson
I like liminal places and emotions. Teetering. In between, neither here nor there. A great place to explore. Liminal Rain advances through the mists. November’s gentle hold chooses destinations, depths. Echoes of long lost luminosity. There was a summer. Once. The world seems flatter now. Rain advances through the mists. November’s gentle hold. I stepContinue reading “Liminal, by Britta Benson”
This poem was inspired by Mark’s blog post on the micro season of light rain showers. https://naturalistweekly.com/2022/10/28/micro-season-light-rain-showers-2022/ I’ve been following his blog for a while and never quite dared to put my two pennies of wisdom out there. Well, here goes. Light rain showers… In Scotland, we have smirr. That irritating, penetrating, finest specimen ofContinue reading “Finest All Hallows’ Eve Song, by Britta Benson”
I like rain. I have to. I live in Scotland. I like the sun too. But that’s a different story for another day. I learned a new word today: petrichor. The pleasant smell that often comes with rain. This new word inspired me to a new poem about rain. Actually, I wrote a whole seriesContinue reading “When will the rain stop?, by Britta Benson”
Saturday, and it’s raining. Here’s the thing… my conundrum… and it comes in the form of a haiku. Conundrum Rain. On Saturday. Water keeps me in my home. I run a hot bath. That’s it, dear readers. Should you wish to read my contribution to Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt, ‘Luminous’ in thirty words, here’sContinue reading “Conundrum, by Britta Benson”
It rains so hard today, that I might have to teach my home to swim. I’ve been watching the rain fall on saturated ground for quite some time now and it sparked a poem. Inevitable. Really. Here goes. Memories Memories fall like rain. Inevitable. Get hit by a touch, a smile, a word, years old,Continue reading “Memories, by Britta Benson”
Today was one of those days, where it rained and rained and rained. Not a heavy downpour that turns the universe into a a dark pit of ueber-dramatic doom, just a persistent rain, the type Scotland does so well. The weather annoyed me for a while. Then, looking out of my window, I realized, thatContinue reading “Abundance, by Britta Benson”
Another poem about rain. What can I say, I live in Scotland. Rain and I meet a lot. Rain Today I decide to listen to the rain as though it’s telling me a story I should know. I open windows wide and let the gentle murmur in. It comes in peace, with a little splashContinue reading “Rain, by Britta Benson”
Mixed day, I seem to take advice from the weather when it comes to my moods. This may be a great idea in some countries, perhaps not so much so if you live in Scotland, like me, at least not at first glance. I like the changeable weather, though. There is always time for rainContinue reading “August, by Britta Benson”
I had plans for today, outdoor plans, but the weather had different ideas for this Tuesday. So I’m stuck inside with a bit of a grudge, bubbling and annoying me from the inside out. I tried to see the other side of the story, imagine, what the rain feels and the result is the followingContinue reading “I, Rain, by Britta Benson”
Why it rains White clouds hang scattered, loose, above my head. These guardians of my darkening soul follow, catch and keep my worries safe, my horrors safer with my fears, until it’s time to hand them back in dribbles, drabs and silver droplets, fill my hollowed heart with life and hold their heads up lightContinue reading “Why it rains, by Britta Benson”
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