The Midnight Rain

The healing properties of dreams
incl. the ability to fulfil wishful impulses



Tapping at the window,
a real shadow of a man,
cap in hand, down at heel,
with forced gruff voice,
offered to do an odd job,
for the price of a meal, a bed
for the night….
….he’d been sick, but survived,
only his comrades had died;
Mum said ‘Welcome…home’;
his face was obscured,
but someone had come back,
and a child joyfully cried in
his pillow…
…early morning,
shoulders, broad as a horse,
bore him high,
past his friends to the stream,
where they fished and swam,
kicked a ball on the garden lawn
till the sun-drenched dawn,
scoring the winning goal
past a grinning Tom Finney.
Awoken by warming light,
he retrieved his teddy,
and on some foreign field the
scattered remains of a small boy’s
dream gave up their vapours,
he slept peacefully again, and
the man who tapped
like the midnight rain
disturbed him
no more.

© Gothicman 2017
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critique and comments welcome.

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10 Comments on "The Midnight Rain"

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Have I read this before? I was thinking I had. Trevor it’s beautiful, one of your very best. I will nominate at once lest I forget.


Yes, this is lovely too Trevor and greatly compliments your other poem On the Soft Landscape of Childhood…Leila x


Last paragraph is the most moving and thought provoking. Nice one!


Okay! That’s almost done me in. Brought me to tears and now my mascara has all run ;-(
;-( Brilliant, absolutely bloody brilliant.

Ha x

PS added to fav poems. I’ve not been around much of late. I wonder how many other gems I have missed? Will have to get a-reading.


BTW, the font, punctuation and placement here was excellent too.
I love to see poeple respect their work enough to fine tune it to perfection.

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