There’s nothing to me,
quite like the irony
of a Sun Valley snow fall
That 6 ft blanket of white
from a brutal winter squall
By:J.N.R Dutton
There’s nothing to me,
quite like the irony
of a Sun Valley snow fall
That 6 ft blanket of white
from a brutal winter squall
By:J.N.R Dutton
Hitting the road on a Greyhound,
together they were Idaho bound
He remembers there being snow all around
It was a picturesque sight, especially @ night
When the snow glistened in the bright moonlight
By:J.N.R Dutton
Autumn will be coming soon
No more bright warm afternoons,
until the spring thaw comes
and everything begins anew
By: J.N.R Dutton
Scorching ninety degree heat in Juárez, Mexico
Makes him really miss Colorado snow
He’s living there in a cheap motel
thinking it feels like the mouth of hell
By: J.N.R Dutton
I’ve always found
Lightning fascinating,
it can be a beautiful thing
but simultaneously
It’s unpredictability
I find totally terrifying
By:J.N.R Dutton
He loves the whistle on the plains
when feral winds blow
The feel of sand on a beach between his toes
Loves the postcard beauty
of mountain winter snows
or when spring comes around
and lush hill grass grows
By: J.N.R Dutton
Cold rain is falling down outside
That wouldn’t be strange,
except that it’s July,
Idaho weather is crazy @ times
So he’s staying in drinking hot chocolate
& working on his rhymes
By: J.N.R Dutton
Just a poem that popped in my mind while thinking about when I used to travel by greyhound buses.
He was sitting on a bus stop bench
In the cold Mississippi rain
It was coming down like crazy, man
Soaking through everything
including the last bit of road food
he’d thought to bring,
It was half a breakfast burrito
it was just leftovers anyway,
He was relieved at last,
when his bus finally came
He said one more hour of that
torrent would’ve driven me insane
By: J.N.R Dutton
He’s leaving Wyoming one morning
hoping to get into home that night,
but there’s ominous weather
as his plane takes flight
The wind gusts with all it’s might
The sun, usually shining
bright & proud
is hiding like it’s not allowed
To come out, and darkened clouds
cover the sky like a shroud
By: J.N.R Dutton
Late one evening in a tiny Georgia town,
lightning was flashing bright & the rain was pouring down
& thunder shook the heavens with an earth shattering sound
Glancing out in the street, there wasn’t a soul there to be found
“Storm of the century” was what the local weather had said
The storm was raging with a fury, that could raise the dead
So everybody hunkered down like frightened children would
If they were hiding from monsters beneath the bed
By: J.N.R Dutton