The grey cloud let the rain come down
The rain clouds dropped the raindrops on a clown
Rhyming with its nature, down
Fiddlesticks she said
In a manly voice
Gruff and loud, booming for all to hear
The train steamed past
It was an electric fast
Coming through the golden clouds burning fast and proud.
This is a collective poem from the Literary Potlatch, written by the participants on the day, with each of them only able to see the previous line. At present, the image accompanying it is a stock photo but we would really love someone to respond to the poem visually, as only an original image can possibly do it justice. Full credit will of course be given. Please email rochesterlitfest@gmail.com if you’re interested in creating something special we can share. Thank you. 
And here is today’s Medway Monday linky:
Rochester Literature Festival 
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