A Language, in the Rain
by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Monday, September 17, 2012
Rated "G" by the Author.
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Wish, whish. As purple uncovers a dream’s
discovery, I cringe, at betterment,
even as I laugh, and gather extreme
matters. I wish I felt more excitement,
like I do in my schemes. Rain! Forget me
not! I've crimsoned hot! Sigh. I once was God,
and I sent the rain where I wanted. See
how peculiar I can be? A fraud.
But then, purple rain falls on bridges,
an art comes to life, mined, and suitably
divined. Okay, too many messages,
not enough contact, anonymity
is free. Swish, wish, I could learn more, if I
desired to, but, hey, can't figure why?!
Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
Art by Michael Tolleson
‘Purple Rain’ Copyright
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|Reviewed by Ronald Hull
|Like Prince wrote, “Left out standing in the purple rain… Purple rain… Purple rain.”
|Reviewed by D. Vaineo
|Get out and enjoy yourself, Erin!
|Reviewed by Vivian Dawson
|Understand the language of the rain
and remember the rainbow created by
God to promise no more floods to
destroy the earth
|Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
|Sigh indeed, Erin, sigh indeed. When back to the days when you were God you hearken you realize just how powerful and happy you were. You have to get back there, by any means. Enjoyable poem this Tuesday morning.|