Night Rain On Blackheath

Charles Macfarlane

Across a black-blue backcloth night,
Absorbing stains of sodium light,
The yellow cotton wool of clouds
Crescendoes into sulphur shrouds;
Stampeded by the hunting gales,
They spill the rain in wind-warped veils.
From Turner-painted swirls it slides
In streaking shooting stars it glides,
Across the golden street-light glow
To glisten in the grass below;
On hissing streets it bluntly dies
In even, never-ending sighs.


This poem is a recent rewrite of a poem I originally wrote in 1970.

Creative Commons Licence Copyright of this work is held by Charles Macfarlane, who licenses it under a Creative Commons Licence (Attribution-Non-Commercial-No Derivative Works 2.0 UK: England & Wales)