You KNOW I'd stop in and read a poem about weather (being the StormSpinner and all). :) All I can say is brilliant.

(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.

This poem reminded me of the many long pauses, the voids of conversations...when the elephant in the room won't be discussed...and the weather is all that can safely be talked of. Funny...how really those mourning, or disabled or whatever else may be making others uncomfortable, would really much rather have you discuss the elephant than the weather... unless it is only to ostracize...

Cryssa

Upon the creative ARTmosphere, you have weathered a treasured poem.

What can I add...you are simply brilliant and always a joy to read.

Really, Kate. This is just as good as the original. It's very different, but the person is the same. I love "Weather germinates under her skin". And that makes me recall an incident that happened to me years ago when I was a young freshman in college. I'd bee standing in a long line for something--probably a play-- and this guy in front of me collapsed-- his crutches splayed out to his sides, his arms rigid, and his body, a tidal wave of motion. All I could do was hold his hand and talk to him--I at least knew his name, as he was the roommate of a guy-friend from back home. What a hellish storm of "cumulous accumulations". The whole range of weather was there--from the lightning, to the foaming sea--the thunder of uncontrollable thrashing, coupled with the inarticulate open-throated moans. And afterwards, the aftershocks--the quivering, and I'll never forget the look of empty relief and love in his eyes for me, who was almost a stranger. It makes me realize what a relief and a release mechanical shocks would be to that internal disaster welling up and exploding. And too-- how afraid people are of certain situations-- how they would rather look away and pretend they don't see. And I recall how ashamed I was of myself for wanting to run away too-- to leave that job for someone else to do, and how there was a girl there who had a sister with epilepsy, and she'd told me what to do.

A little empathetic information goes a long way towards acting out in love. Both "Weather" and "Elliptic Shock" make that happen. It is like peeping into this poor Alice's mind and witnessing the long-walled plunge into Wonderland. --Charlie

I AGREE; SHE DOESN'T WANT TO BE RESCUED. AND UNTIL SHE DOES, 'HE' WON'T GO AWAY(KEEPING HER OUT)AND THE WHEATHER WILL NOT CHANGE(DRAWING YOU IN). THUS, 'THE FALL...THE ELIPTIC SHOCK' CONTINUES.
WELL DONE AND ENJOYED. THANKS FOR SHARING. LOVE, BLESSINGS AND FAITH...JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS

whether or not "weather" was fated by the provoked will of a muse or coincidental and moved to print simply by whimsy, it is an artful rendering - to you and Axilea, my nod of approval for enjoyable poetry - may we all be an inspiration that elicits fine art - I wish you love and peace my dear friend, Jon Michael

Weather germinates under her skin, and she is grateful to such elements - quite marvelous.

So much more than meets the eye, impressive response to Axiela's poem Kate!

i'll weather this poem any time ... great atmosphere ...

Ring-fenced like matrimony… Now there's a line!

Ron

Axilea brings out the best in Kate..
both of you dream poets for me

john

Kate,words fail me when I read such magnificent poems. Especially when you are able to blend another poets, so beautifully to your own. Axilea's poem is equally brilliant and you took nothing away from it,since both are enhanced by each others words. Kudos to both of you!

Eileen

You are brilliance as you get right into the midst of your poetry, Kate, and I'm afraid I just barely scratch the surface of understanding here, but what a wonderful exchange between your poem and Axilea's.
Stunning poets of originality, both of you!
Bless you xx,
Christine

Axilea poem is awe inspiring. This is too. wonderful!

Here things have slowed down, there is some quiet that can only be that of the morning after, the in-between. I am moved to see the inspiration become something you elaborated, so that I (and others) can discover a new emotion. There is a more lunar side to this piece, a slow tempo and she dances, she breathes, she's grateful. Emotions are more stable, there is a new wind in her life, maybe. Thank you for this, Kate, it's moving and I'm keeping it.



Axilea

Weather so often awakens moods and thoughts; it can be so symbolic. Thank you for sharing your thought-awakening verses, Kate. Love and best wishes,

Regis

Reading from left to right, or from top to bottom, matters not, this is readable on all levels (except maybe the high cirrus) and understandable except when in the depths of stratus. Enough! I like the part about "drawing you in / keeping her out," much better than "solitude’s greasy pole." But then there are moments when a greasy pole is just the thing.

Kickass poetry, Kate . . .

"Weather" embraces the dawn of depression. Brilliant writing
Kate with a special loving touch. xx
Lady Mary Ann

Ring-fenced like matrimony. Well said. At a time when character description longs for unique metaphor to avoid the dreary cliche-ridden attempts of far too many poets, this was indeed refreshing.