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An Excerpt from "Scotland, at the Bishop's House"
by
Nils Peterson

Rain on the window,
Rain on the wall
Rain on the rooftop
Covering all

Rain on the mountains
Rain on the towns
Rain on the valleys
Whistling down

Rain on the kingdom
Rain on the seas
Rain will keep falling
Wherever it please.

This poem first appeared in the Sandhill Review.
Used here with the author’s permission.

 

 

 

 

 Nils Peterson is Professor Emeritus at San Jose State University. In 2009, he was chosen the first Poet Laureate of Santa Clara County. He has published poetry, science fiction, and articles on subjects as varied as golf and Shakespeare, and his work was featured in Local Habitations, a collection of work by fellow poets laureate of Santa Clara County. Enjoy reading Nils’ memoir at http://www.echapbook.com/memoir/peterson/.

 

 

 



Post New Comment:
Mary Lou Taylor:
We in Northern California are feeling such gratitude. After five years the rain has finally arrived. The bricks I see in our yard are wet. Thank you, Nils, for a poem that we appreciate for its message, its composition, and its ease.
Posted 12/08/2016 02:20 PM
vscholtz:
Sorry I'm not a better proof-reader - here are some corrections. We were driving along the north coast of Scotland several year ago in a driving rain. At one point the road had been cut through a hillside so the turf was above the car roof. The wind blew the rain right over the edge of the land and curled it back up. Later that evening we spoke with a couple who had been hiking in their macs and galoshes. They told us that when the wind got so strong they "just lay down in the heather" until it settled down. Thanks for a great visual.
Posted 12/08/2016 10:07 AM
Michael:
Dear Nils, Love the tight, effective diction in this poem. Thank you.
Posted 12/08/2016 09:54 AM
Jean :D:
I love rainy days, (as long as there aren't to many in a row!) So I really enjoyed Nils poem. I could almost hear it fall.
Posted 12/08/2016 06:17 AM
blueskies:
Yes! A celebration of blessed rains.Thanks, Nils.
Posted 12/08/2016 06:03 AM
Katrina:
I went to school in Scotland. My friend, Moragh, write a very short poem of eight words that condensed the weather, but her boots leaked and that was the point of the poem: 'wet feet'.
Posted 12/08/2016 05:09 AM
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