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Poet of Rain & Harvest

Autumn poems between cloudbursts.

Step into the turning year of Poet of Rain & Harvest, where April thrills along the railroads, a village dances to the beat of the rain and a calm maverick works the golden wheat. From a greeting to May to an autumn that asks to be fathomed, these twenty-two poems follow the weather from puddle to harvest table. Read them by a window, with a warm cup, and let the season do the rest.

Download Poet of Rain & HarvestPDF · 64 pages · 10.4 MB · 5.33 × 8.33 inPreview edition

Preview edition. Poet of Rain & Harvest is still in progress. 5 of its 22 poems are the author's own, as read on the channel; the other 17 are drafts written in the author's style, marked Draft, and waiting for the author's review. The introduction and the 3-in-1 commentary are working drafts that are still being edited.

Introduction

Weather is more than a forecast

Weather is more than a forecast. It is the first thrill of April along a railway path, a village evening drumming on its roofs, a farmer’s hands in wet soil, and the slow gold of an autumn that asks to be understood. Rain feeds what the harvest gathers.

Poet of Rain & Harvest gathers twenty-two poems from that turning year. Some splash like children in puddles, while others stand quietly in the wheat. Each one is a journey: some end in sleep, and some end in a good wish for the season ahead.

Through these pages, let the weather in. Read one on a rainy evening, one at harvest time, and keep the last for the first cool morning of autumn. Enjoy!

Contents

22 poems

April Thrill

Along the amusing railroads, April thrills With a free bill for every drink spilled Until each…

Hello May

Hello May, I hope your purpose to stay awhile be worth it I pray You have come to our arms with…

Cool Beats

A fine rainy evening descended on the village with a chill crispy breeze bellowing over the…

Maverick of the Harvest

August, the month of harvest had arrived with abundance and fruitfulness of reaps to bear Guests…

An Autumn to Fathom

There was a gentle call for summer's last fall to leave it mark with golden and red leaves This…

Draft

First Cloudburst

After weeks of dust and dryness, the sky began to frown, And a bruise of purple clouds came…

Draft

The Farmer's Prayer

Before the dawn he rises, and he walks into the field, With the tools of his devotion and the…

Draft

The Umbrella Parade

When the drizzle came to town on a grey and gloomy day, The umbrellas rose like flowers and they…

Draft

Maize in September

In September the maize stands golden in the gentle afternoon, With its tassels swaying softly to…

Draft

Harvest Moon Dance

When the harvest moon rose over the barn like a lantern in the sky, The village lit its…

Draft

The Granary Door

At the end of the harvest, when the fields were shorn and bare, The farmers hauled their bounty…

Draft

June Thunder

The June air was heavy and thick as wool, and the birds had stopped their song, And the horizon…

Draft

Basket of Ripe Mangoes

Down the lane at the end of June, where the mango branches bow, I gathered up my basket, and I…

Draft

The Long Dry Spell

The river shrank to a ribbon, and the ribbon shrank to a thread, And the cattle lowed at midday…

Draft

Mud on My Boots

There is mud upon my boots from the fields I've walked and hoed, And it tells the tale of the…

Draft

Golden Barn Lights

At dusk on the edge of the harvest, when the last of the wagons came, The barn was lit with…

Draft

Seeds Asleep in Winter

When the harvest is all over and the fields have turned to snow, There are seeds asleep in the…

Draft

The Thanksgiving Table

The table groans with plenty, and the candles glow like stars, And the smell of roasted…

Draft

Rainbow After the Storm

The storm had roared all morning, and the river rose in rage, And the lightning wrote its fury…

Draft

The Well-Watered Garden

There is a little garden where my grandmother would kneel, With a battered watering can and a…

Draft

Market Day in the Rain

The rain came down on market day, but the market did not stop, For the traders raised their…

Draft

Ploughman at Dusk

The ploughman drove his oxen down the last long row of clay, As the sun went burning crimson at…