Rain

I really like rain. I think that is sets the mood for many things. There is alot to "the mood". What is a really awesome, if you aren't in the mood. Or a magical night with someone special if the magical mood is gone. It just lacks that puch, or that...specialness. It is funny how things like rain, or stars, or music can set the mood. I wonder what the mood for this post would be. How do you feel now. Are you really happy. If you come back when you are really sad then it will probably have a different feel about it. Do you ever wonder what the author is feeling when he writes something. What if Vicor Hugo was feeling really happy when he was writing the scene where Marius is mourning the death of his friends? What if He was extraordinarily happy for a long time when he was writing that part, so that he couldn't write it. I wonder if his happiness ever frustrated him? " why can't I just be sad so that I can finish this chapter." Or perhaps he just read what he had written to that point, allowing the words to set the mood for him

The mood can do wonderful things. The poem below is a great example. I don't consider myself very gifted at writing. That is part of the reason that I have this blog, is to improve on my writing skills. But the poem below I consider very good. I hope that you think so too. Well that was written at 1:30 in the morning on night. I had just spent one of the greatest nights with one of my friends, and what had happepend kept running through my brain. You know like before Christmas when you can't sleep because you keep thinking about what is in those presents. Or the day before you go to the MTC, and your brain is full of thoughts of the future. Well that Is what was happening to me. The mood was set, and it was so powerful it wouldn't let go of me. The only escape was through venting it out into a poem. And that is what resulted. Amazing isn't it. I have tried several times since then to write some poetry, but none of it comes close to the following peice.

So those are my thoughts on the mood.

September 4, 2007

Tip tap, tip tap,
the rain on the buildings protective tin cap,
inspire the thought
of a gallop, or trot,
and many brave thoroughbreds
with iron clad heads.
marching to rescue the maid, Aphrodite
from a sorcerer's holdings, so deep and so mighty.

Conquer they must,
and conquer they will,
then bring her back home,
to the rivers and hill,
that make up her kingdom,
full of valleys and rills,
and cease not to guard her,
whether healthy or ill.


Ay, never fear, my brave Mademoiselle
for all of your terrors, brave knights will dispel,
and your impossible rescue,
will all end quite well.
Now here I remain,
on this late Autumn night,
enjoying the prescence of one so sweet and just right.
Fare thee well, my precious tip tap of the rain,
Now we can finish our grand tennis game.