I’m delighted to post this rondeau redouble from Vincent Johnson today. The poem made it to the second round (top 12%) of the prestigious Bridport Prize last year.
This Falling Rain
Could I love you like I love so much this falling rain,
or like the gentle earth, or sun now clothed in cloud,
and could I love you like this summer wind, again
unveiling Phoebus’ splendours hid beneath his shroud?
My furnace, stoked with passion, sings your name out loud
and burnishes a gilded banner that acclaims
your radiant beauty coursing through my blood.
Could I love you like I love so much this falling rain?
It seems I could … but first I must be sure we could sustain
this love, and understand what lies beneath this flood
of all you seem to be, to feed our roots ingrained,
and fed by gentle earth, and sun now clothed in cloud,
to grow into some great tree, standing high and proud
enduring for centuries, whose branches maintain
shade for all who need protection between our boughs,
where they could love us like the summer wind, again
seeking shelter from life’s storms in this, love’s domain,
while tempest gales are raging though our steadfast crown;
and as the clouds are swept away, the dying winds again
unveil your many splendours hid beneath your shroud.
Is who I see the real you revealed? … a shining crowd
of qualities that makes me swoon? I take my pen
and write this dedication, so now avowed,
our loves my twine together, and you then might claim
that you will love me just as I love falling rain.