Draft in the author’s style. This poem was written for Poet of Rain & Harvest to sit beside the author’s own readings, and is waiting for the author’s review. The commentary is a working draft too.
The rain came down on market day, but the market did not stop,
For the traders raised their canopies and kept the busy shop.
The onions and the peppers shone with droplets like small gems,
And the fishmonger's silver catches gleamed among the stems.
A woman sold umbrellas from a rack beside the bread,
And she made her best sales ever from the clouds above her head.
The children splashed through puddles with their wellingtons on tight,
And the old men sat beneath the shed and argued left and right.
There was laughter in the aisles, and a drumming on the tin,
And the smell of frying plantain rose from the stalls within.
So the rain is not a hindrance for the ones who love to trade,
For a market in a downpour is a joy that God has made.
Poet of Rain & Harvest · Hear it on the channel ↗
Commentary
Rain does not stop a market, it only changes it. This poem walks the wet stalls and finds business, laughter and a smell of frying plantain.
“The rain came down on market day, but the market did not stop,” for the traders “raised their canopies.” The onions and peppers “shone with droplets like small gems,” and “the fishmonger’s silver catches gleamed.” “A woman sold umbrellas from a rack beside the bread,” and “made her best sales ever from the clouds above her head.”
“The children splashed through puddles with their wellingtons on tight,” and old men argue “beneath the shed.” There is “laughter in the aisles, and a drumming on the tin,” and “the smell of frying plantain.” The poem ends: “a market in a downpour is a joy that God has made.”