[Poui Trees by Karin Best, from a google search. Fair use]
TIME WAS
Time was, when folks saw the pinks of the Poui
around The Savannah and the yellows too,
children made kites from copy book pages.
The wind was right for kite flying.
Time was, you stayed home,
cause it was a holiday and,
children left their copy books in book bags,
going outside instead
to help put three/four grains of corn or pigeon peas
into holes in the backyard garden,
cause it rained, cause it was Corpus Christi
and folks knew that Rainy Season start.
Time was when it rained
It was Rainy Season,
children made paper boats from copy book pages.
Nowadays it rains and folks say, [thought] it was just a passing cloud, but is serious rain.
Nowadays at other times folks say [thought] it was Rainy Season, where de rain.
TIME WAS © gillena cox 2019
Poets United Mid Week Motif
Climate Change
REVISIT
23 Jan 2017
23 Jan 2016
23 Jan 2015
Yes! Love the juxtaposition of attitude toward rain and the us of the copy book. Personal and provocative, speaking to the unpredictability of the day to day! Perfect.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your appreciation Susan
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love
Those changing rains are a concern here where I live, too, in the rainforest, where we are getting so little rain. It is such a worry.
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by Sherry
DeleteMuch đź’–love
Yes! A wonderful poem torn from copy book pages.
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by Annell
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love
Gillena, your poem's unpredictability is being felt, in the North American Great Lakes basin, as well. Winters seem to come later and harsher than the previous years.This past week, the temperature has yoyoed (on Saturday) from -22 C to 6 C, in Toronto. Worse, the entire province of Ontario, was under an Environment Canada extreme weather warning. The seasons of fall and spring have become brief interludes before the destructive arrival of winter and summer. Moderation is a word that global warming has forgotten.
ReplyDeleteGlad you dropped by Therisa
DeleteMuchđź’–love
So sad that we have to wonder about the absence of rain. Your poem speaks to our grief in such a real and sensitive way. Thank you for this Gillena.
ReplyDeleteThanks for ylur appreciation Myrna
DeleteMuchđź’–love
Good one yes the world is opsite down and we need to go back to the old times in a new way
ReplyDeleteYes we have lost our folk predictability. Thanks for dropping by Marja
DeleteMuchđź’–love
Can't think of a West Indies without rain. We're facing the same fate. Even the illiterate (there are many such persons with a warm soul, much better than the educated ones) folks are saying that rain is going to Bangladesh because they have more trees there. Sigh.
ReplyDeleteIts a topysy turvy weather world we live in now. Thanks for dropping by Sumana
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love
I love the retrospection and nostalgia in this poem, Gillena, the colours and imagery, especially the children with their kites and boats made from copy book pages and the way the copy book pages flutter and float through the whole poem. And yes, rain is all important.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your appreciation Kim
DeleteMuchđź’–love
We don't get much rain in South Australia where I live (about 20 inches year) but we don't really have a winter so we usually have two crops each year to suit the temperature pattern. It doesn't always work especially last year when very little rain fell in winter (June, July, August) when it was needed.
ReplyDeleteThanks for dropping by Robin
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love
It rains where it's supposed to snow and snow where it's supposed to rain as Greenland melts and Iceland freezes.
ReplyDeleteThanks for this here!
Thank you for dropping by Yvonne
DeleteMuchđź’–love
Love the narrative element of your poem. It does remind of old days, where "folks knew that Rainy Season start". Not anymore, I'm afraid nowadays. Brilliant write!
ReplyDeleteThanks for your appreciation Khaya
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love
This is lovely Gillena!
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by Carrie
ReplyDeleteMuchđź’–love