Clouds are gathered
ready for a summer rain
heat exsiccates the falls
some flowers begin to wane
Akin to waterfalls
the gully washer began
a real lifesaver for plants
part of the plan
Thunder and lightening
a dramatic show
all life is fed
including the river below
The sun returns
clouds are now dry
plants perk up
rainbow shines in the steam
all is well
a midsummer dream
copyright 2021 Debbie Pierce
Very well penned.
Beethoven’s Sixth in poetry
Thank you. I like Beethoven. He was so talented. Thanks for reading. Have a wonderful day!
I felt every word Debbie. Thanks for joining in 🙂 🙂
Thank you. It’s so hot here that our normal gully washers are a relief. You are welcome. Have a wonderful day!
Thank you. Rain is so refreshing and cools the afternoons here. Have a wonderful day!
“Horse Pens 40 is a privately owned outdoor nature park located in St. Clair County near Steele, Alabama. The park is situated atop Chandler Mountain, in the foothills of The Appalachian Mountains.” ~ Wikipedia
Back in May of 1975, my Dad and I loaded up our Ford Econoline 200 Van, and drove from Memphis, Tennessee, to a weekend Bluegrass Festival, south toward Birmingham, Alabama. We arrived in time for the Friday shows, held under roof, due to rain. The following day found us in sunshine. We settled into our lawn chairs, well in advance of the headline act for the Saturday session. I had time to go to the concession stand, where they served chicken on a biscuit and lemonade. Seriously, that is all that was available. How unique is that?
We enjoyed the headline act, Ralph Stanley and The Clinch Mt. Boys, who at that time, featured Keith Whitley on lead vocals. After their set, we heard a rumble of thunder. Within minutes, the rain was upon us. This was the first time I had ever experienced a rain storm, from inside the cloud, but that appeared to be the case. (We were 1,500 feet above sea level.)
Seasoned campers that we were, we quickly donned plastic ponchos, as many festival goers scrambled for a dry spot. Before the scurrying had ceased, the rain stopped, the sun came back out, and within thirty minutes, the raging rivers that flowed down the hill, to the base of the stage, and beyond, had dried up. It was as if nothing happened, weather wise. Another band took the stage. A new line formed at the concession stand. All was forgotten for a couple of hours, and here came the thunder and, well you know the drill.
Wonderful story. I love the south and our great outdoor concerts. Thanks for sharing.
Awesome! I love this! Well done! A great poem!
Thank you. Gully washers are common here during the summer. They are fun to watch. Thanks for reading.
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