Listen to the storm! It speaks in tongues
through a mouthful of leaves and windfall
cores, a drunken lilt in its gale of a song.
Listen to the storm! The tutting rain
is gossiping through the windowpane
in a language you will never tame.
Listen to the storm! In the lingering draught
down the chimney, from the windowsill
and under the door, it’s whispering still.
Kim M. Russell, 27th September 2020
A poem for Poets and Storytellers United Writers’ Pantry #39: Plums and feathers
I’ve been listening to the storm since Thursday night. It took our power on Friday afternoon, but we were lucky to get it back that night, while other households in our area had to wait. The wind is still kicking up and the rain persists. Autumn is well and truly here.
writing in north norfolk 
You always put me right there!
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Here is not a place you’d want to be at the moment, Rosemary! I apologise. 🙂
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LOL I can leave at the end of the poem – unlike those who have to be there all the time.
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Hearing a storm like that I’d like to think I was tucked up in bed safe with no worries about the house standing firm! Luckily my experiences with gales and storms have never been that serious…so far!
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We could be in for a stormy autumn.
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Tonight (MAYbe) there will be some sprinkling, but we’re gonna hafta get lots more liquid to turn around the drought we’re in. I could go for summa yer storm, KR.
like the song says: Rain On Me.
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It’s still miserable out there.
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PS: LOVE your title!
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🤓
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That really woke me up. The first stanza is especially masterful. I want to shout it from the rooftops (if its not raining too hard).
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Thank you, Colleen.
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I love a good rainstorm … and I love the term “tuttering” rain! If I breathe deeply I can fairly smell the bouquet!
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Thanks so much, Bev!
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Wonderful story! That spill of possible stories is a marvelous read.
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Thank you, Wyndolynne!
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I love that you rhymed “windowsill” with “whispering still.” The comparison of the storm speaking in tongues is surprisingly accurate.
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Thank you!
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I love this. There is something about hearing a good storm when you’re snug inside that answers some ancient soul craving.
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That makes me happy, Suzanne. I’m currently waiting for roofer to come and do some repairs before we get any more storms. I agree about being snug inside. 😉
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I hope you make everything weather tight. 🙂
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Thank you, Suzanne. 🙂
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Well we had 2 September angry stormy days this year which left me distressed i now have to have roof repairs done and wow the language of the storm was ominous
Stay safe
Much💓love
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Thank you, Gillena, I’m waiting for roofers to repair our roof – they should have been here by now. Waiting for them is distracting me from writing this morning.
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i can feel the power of this storm in the poem. love the format and form of the poem, it’s lovely.
love the title too, have to look it up though. 🙂
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Thank you for reading and commenting!😊
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“in a language you will never tame.” Oh, my, goodness – wonderful
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Thank you Debi!
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Sometimes, it is so much more comfortable to turn blind eyes and deaf ears to the storm. The whispers and songs just howl so threateningly at times. But your poem is correct, one must listen to the stormy chaos–even when it’s quite scary–the alternative is getting lost. And as romantic and appealing as such adventure might sound, howling storms are rarely enjoyable (or particularly safe, if one doesn’t hear all the steps in it).
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The storm this weekend was scary, it brought down so many branches and trees, made roads impassable, and cut power and telephone lines. It went through distinct stages, ending this morning with a whisper. We actually had some sunshine this afternoon!
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So glad for the sunshine! I hope the power and phone lines are up soon. And that people didn’t lose too much.
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I simply LOVE this … I love storms the bigger the better as long as they do not damage. Your storm took on personas that delight.
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Thanks so much. Helen!
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Love this! You captivated me from the first stanza.
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Thank you, Susie.
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Amazing imagery. Enjoying your work. You have a real way with words.
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Thank you so much for reading and for your kind comment, Angela.
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