The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past –
deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say,
browsing on spire and bogland; but today
our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,
our yachts tinkling and dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last
shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
- History
- Place
- Progression
- Alliteration
- Simile
- Onomatopoeia
- Synaesthesia
- 7 line poem
- Rhyme scheme: abbcbac
- Sombre
- Hopeful
- Optimistic
- Grey skies
- Heavy rain
- Brightly coloured sea town houses
- Yachts bobbing up and down on the water
- Spire and bogland - church and land
- Shining windows - opening up + inviting opportunities
- Yachts + racehorses - wealth