We had
a gentle, hours-long rain last night and as I drifted in and out of sleep
listening to it falling on the roof and occasionally splattering against the
bedroom windows, I was reminded of a poem by Pepper Blair.
Raindrops
I heard raindrops in the night
Pattering upon my eaves,
Like a pleasing lullaby
Easing me back into sleep,
Which I thought was odd a bit
For I awoke because of it.
It
made me curious as to who Blair might be, so I did a quick bit of
sleuthing. It turns out he’s a Kansas
writer who has written several thousand poems.
After looking at a few more of them, I thought he probably would have been an
excellent journalist because he is a master at what I call “writing
tight.” What I also learned is that
while his poems have collectively been written over the past 30 years, most
were done over 20 years in the ‘90s and early 2000s.
You
may have heard the expression, “Write when the spirit moves you.” It definitely applies to Blair. He said,
“I know not how or why, but inspiration came one early spring, stayed
through twenty seasons, then departed from me as abruptly as it had arrived. I
will consider this time a blessing the rest of my days.”
As
should those who benefit from his creations.
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