Wind of change

When will this wind change,
herding rain-laden clouds from the west?
Nights of hidden moonlight
bring only storms, no golden dawns.

Herding rain-laden clouds from the west,
the tempest flies, bringing
on ragged crow wings

nights of hidden moonlight.
Where are the deep sea pearls?
The diamonds that seed the sky

bring only storms, no golden dawns,
and no birds sing in the teeth of the gale,
no white-winged ships fly the cloudy seas.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

10 thoughts on “Wind of change”

      1. If I could get Turner into words, I’d be a great poet. I don’t mind not being great. I’m satisfied to be what I am, finding a few nuggets in the rough stuff.

      2. I wonder how we ever know how good what we do is. I’d love to paint like Turner too. The line between good and great is a slippery one, and don’t look to the critics for the answer.

      3. Critics are generally people who can’t do what they’re criticising. I suppose it’s whatever lasts the test of time, and unfortunately, we won’t be around when the results come out.

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