A Passing Cloud, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

A Passing CloudA Passing Cloud, Arthur Hughes (c.1908)

A Passing Cloud

The silent summer breeze brought you to me
As if an answer to a private plea
So soft and gentle was our first embrace
Was no resistance as you took my heart
Dreaming my happiness would never part

A gray day came yet I asked that you stay
Why the need you must leave you did convey
Almost anger with your sound of thunder
At once your countless tears came raining down
And as quickly you left without a sound

Every day now I search the big blue sky
But it is I who every night do cry
Again pleading for your rapid return
For my longing life is now so hollow
And my tender heart is filled with sorrow

 

 

 

The Storm, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The StormThe Waterspout, Gustave Courbet (1870)

The Storm

O that rain which comes in the darkest night
Shaking angrily my bedroom window
With its booming thunder and scaring light

Even glass within is showing some fright
A minor crack now beginning to show
O that rain which comes in the darkest night

Feeling that it rattles me just for spite
Tries to make within a horrific woe
With its booming thunder and scaring light

Bring my poor heart beat to a deathly height
Driving rain delivers its mighty blow
O that rain which comes in the darkest night

Makes my knuckles turn a ghastly pale white
Wondering what damages will it sow
With its booming thunder and scaring light

Now I’m waiting for the sun to shine bright
To spare me from this dark night’s awful glow
O that rain which comes in the darkest night
With its booming thunder and scaring light

Rain in the Oak Forest, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Rain in the Oak ForrestRain in the Oak Forest, Ivan Shishkin (1891)

Rain in the Oak Forest, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Breathe boldly, inhale as deep as you can
Feel the sensation of the flavored air
Stretch your arms so to create an eagle’s span
Then invigorate your pace if you dare

Chase the deer should they suddenly appear
Search for the nymph if it is your pleasure
Listen ever closely as they are near
But they will respond becoming a blur

It’s magic being in the oak forest
With the light tapping of each drop of rain
When the dark forest can be its brightest
Feeling the rain washing away your pain

Come and hitch a ride on a unicorn
Rain at your face, a time never to mourn

Tears, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

RainRain, Ivan Ivanovich Endogurov (c. 1900)

Tears

A cold dismal wind blows from the north-east
History has told me that it meant rain
Or dark dreary devilish day the least
Giving many a reason to complain

Stood at the open back door for awhile
Feeling each gray drop land upon my face
The constant pummeling soon made me smile
Firmly grabbing the door jamb for my brace

Thinking I’m the fool getting soaking wet
By now my clothes beaten against my skin
Illness could possibly be a grave threat
Laughing now, all my clothes I did unpin

Rushed outside with head up to drink the tears
Felt good as they washed away all my fears

 

Blue Rain, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Blue RainImage created by author

Blue Rain, Robert A Sieczkiewicz

When needed sleep finally does arrive
I dream in blue with eager thoughts of you
Reaching out, touching you, you’re so alive
Morning comes to reminds me what is true

There are always questions about my day
Fighting the blue loneliness since you left
Begging, pleading you would forever stay
Stealing my willing heart the greatest theft

Time for walking in the pouring blue rain
Searching for you, wherever you may be
Every step taken is a goring pain
Knowing not again your beauty to see

When needed sleep finally does arrive
I dream in blue with eager thoughts of you
Reaching out, touching you, you’re so alive
Morning comes to reminds me what is true

 

More Friend than Foe, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

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Wheat Fields, Jacob van Ruisdael (c. 1670)

 

More Friend than Foe, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Looking out to the sky you caught my eye,
Ominous for sure, you’re not at all shy.
Not the least caring if I live or die,
A very dangerous craft you do ply.

Be it your desire you can start a fire,
At the moment next cause it to expire.
Or in a single flash devour any spire,
And I for one will not provoke your ire.

All rather feel the gentler side of you.
You helping with our gardens to renew,
Not much caring if it be impromptu,
And pray your help will always continue.

Angering clouds can be distasteful pain,
But to wish departure would be insane.