The Last Hurrah

The monsoon is having its last hurrah

Before relinquishing stage to much awaited autumn

It arrived quietly

No drum rolls of thunder

No flashes of lightning

No rushing of clouds

It started hesitatingly

A bit unsure of self

A gentle drizzle

Testing notes

Then gradually it warmed up

Gained strength

The drizzle turned into a downpour

Steady, stacatto beats

Drenching every being

In its upbeat notes

The melody enrapturing the soul

For the finale act

Darkest clouds gathered

Lightning flashed

Thunder clapped uproariously

Creating a symphony oft heard

But with fresher notes every time

The trees bowed to its masterful display

The nature dressed in its Sunday best

Stood up for ovation

At the dying notes

As monsoon bowed out gracefully

The heart thirsted for encore.

(Recently I have been sharing poems on rains on a daily basis. This one is the last, for now!)


71 thoughts on “The Last Hurrah

      1. So it was. I sat in my balcony enjoying the show. Thankfully no traffic rush or blaring horns to sound jarring notes, it being Sunday. πŸ˜ŠπŸ˜ŠπŸ€—


    1. You are right Jenna. Rains can be altogether scary when they wreck havoc. But where I stay, rains often give us a short shrift.
      So it is wonderful when we have a heavy downpour.
      Thanks for reading dear. 😊

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’re welcome Punam. 😊 Here in Florida where I live we live in a flood zone and it’s hurricane season so sometimes the idea of storms is a cause for worry and anxiety for myself and my significant other. We’re both from upstate NY and the weather situation s bit of a climb shock at times. But your right sometimes a rain storm can be soothing, I actually grew up enjoying rainy days.❀️😊

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Similarly in India, summers are so hot that we look forward to winters. ☺️
        Where we stay and where we have been brought up, often colour our views.
        But yes, as kids we all loved rainy days. 😊
        Thanks for sharing. πŸ’•

        Liked by 1 person

      3. My favorite season growing up has always been the fall. In Florida it doesn’t really exist…I can look at the seasons I grew up in with fond memories, you’re right staying in the same area your whole life is definitely different from experiencing the climates and seasons of other locations. 😊❀️

        Liked by 1 person

      4. I too love autumn Jenna, though in India too it is for very short duration. Here it is also synonymous with the festive season as most festivals fall in that duration. 😊

        Liked by 1 person

  1. This piece reminds me of March’s adage: “in Like a lion and out like a lamb’. In this case, however, the monsoon crept quietly in and left with a bang.

    I really love the personification of the monsoon – your words gave it such life. And the yearning at the end for an encore… life is like that, isn’t it – we want all that makes us move to do it just one more time. Kind of like this poem – it starts gentle and ends with fireworks, leaving us wanting just a little more!

    Also enjoyed your title – very fitting, my friend πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  2. This is so, so beautiful, P! I love how you described the rains coming in so quietly and then ending with a bang! It is very much like a symphony and, in a way, you have given us an encore moment by beautifully describing the coming and going of the monsoon in every line. Love it! πŸ˜ŠπŸ‘β™₯️

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much, my dear! In fact it was like well synchronized orchestra that day and I couldn’t help but use the analogy. Your comment makes me so happy. πŸ˜ŠπŸ™πŸΌβ€οΈ

      Liked by 1 person

  3. I am hoping for an encore, I’ve felt transported in your poems about the monsoon.
    β€œAs monsoon bowed out gracefully
    The heart thirsted for encore.”

    This is beautiful and also makes me think of Inky.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. β€œNature dressed in its Sunday best” is my favorite line in this one. Your descriptions and personification are so deep and lush. You are truly an artist with a paintbrush of words!


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