My apologies for falling asleep before writing the poem for yesterday’s challenge.    The challenge for Na/GloPoWriMo  Day 10 is to write a poem that references a local weather term.  After some thought and discussion, I have chose a type of wind that influences the weather from Hawai’i across to Canada starting at BC and moving across the Rockies…and well somehow the poem falls back on thoughts of someone becomes increasingly important to my soul.

Chinook of the North
by Michael Romani

In a flourish of friendly, happy conversation 
I speak to my love about our two nations
Seeking to learn about the weather
That one day I hope to get to know better

There with her voice so lovely Canuckian
And her insisting on calling me her American
Me insisting that I must be a United Statesian
The truth of the trick of being her man

She laughs playfully telling me that now
The place in which I had grown up somehow
Blows its pineapple breeze past her city
Warming up the Canadian Rockies so pretty

Sipping Tim Horton's so discretely
She whispers she'll always need me
And I am just glad to be her monkey
Who occasionally tells stories so funny

That my chinook of the north warms me
On the days that are gray and cloudy
I've never a lady so sweet and lovely
That she shines a smile that owns me

My snow eater melts my coldest moment
Giving me peace in my worse torment
She is my ocean child grown up as seen
Bringing out my best as a human being

I tell her I worry without a word
And she smiles and says we can be snowbirds
Turning my care into the wind 
Knowing she is my lady, my lover, my friend

There is an orographic lifting in her rain shadow
One that has all the colors of the rainbow
And in it I am safe and warm and know her love
Always like a treasure given from the above

My Coastie and I find ourselves on the beach
Keeping each other's company deep within reach
As the stars fall down over the Pacific Ocean
As witnesses to the depth of our singular devotion

She is my indulgence under a coat of midnight
Stars shining bright nearly as the moon lights
Our way into each other's arms facing each other
There is no more perfect than this in one another
 
Snowfalls and the cold spells will never spawn
As much magic as waking up to her in my dawn
The ramparts of the mountains spread to Fraser Canyon
And I smile all the same with her as my companion

(c)  April 10, 2019  Michael Romani
All Rights Reserved