Poésie – Les chroniques de Calmette

Nothing, but rain

Today the sky was throwing hands,
wind slapping cheeks, cold in command,
rain needling coats, streets soaked through,
Outside? Everything is Blue.

Out there, it’s misery-core and thunderstruck,
frozen fingers, wet socks, bad luck.
Rain is rude when it hits your skin,
winter laughing like: you thought you’d win?

But inside…
oh inside is where the magic hides.

Blankets piled like soft defenses,
tea steaming up all my senses,
a screen flickers, cookies wait,
time slows down, procrastinates.

Rain taps poems on the glass,
And it whispers: relax, don’t move fast,
It says: stay. Breathe. Do nothing at all.
Let the world drip. Let deadlines fall.

Because a sunny day demands a plan,
Blue skies guilt-trip you into being a fan.
But Grey?
Grey forgives you for ghosting the day.

Cold outside makes the warmth feel loud,
like comfort wrapped in a fluffy cloud.
The contrast hits; perfection, aligned:
chaos outside, peace inside and confined.

Nothing happened. And yet,
everything did.

Rain showed up and that was enough,
turned a boring day into gentle stuff.
No memories made, no places been,
just me, my blanket, and the sound of rain.

And somehow that’s the best kind of day,
when the weather says:
it’s okay to fade away.

Valentina ROSSI SCHMID 103

The Song of Falling in Love

It starts with a spark, a soft little flame,
A look that can move you, though none are the same.
The world feels alive, the colors shine new,
Each moment feels brighter, because of this view.

A smile turns to music, a word feels like song,
You feel you’ve been waiting, for them all along.
The night feels much shorter, the day feels so near,
A heart finds its rhythm when someone is dear.

Yet love is a river, it twists as it flows,
It teaches with patience, it deepens, it grows.
At times it is gentle, at times it is wild,
It tests you, it shapes you, it keeps you beguiled.

Not every day’s easy, not all skies are clear,
But even through clouds, the sunlight is near.
Love is a balance of learning and grace,
A journey of growth in another’s embrace.
Procès
Love is the teacher of all that is true,
It humbles the strong and it strengthens the few.
It heals and it hurts, it destroys and creates,
It binds two as one and it bends all the fates.

So love is the meaning, the light from above,
The risk and the wonder, the reason we love.
A storm and a sunrise, a loss and a cure…
The greatest of treasures, eternal and pure.

Valentina ROSSI SCHMID 103

Autum poem

« Autumn, After All »
Autumn.
Fall.
The realest season of them all.
No bright beginnings, no loud parade
Just golden light, and skies that fade.

The trees undress.
The wind exhales.
The world gets quiet, soft, and pale.
You walk through leaves like whispered thought,
Like memories the summer forgot.

It’s the season of staying in.
Of wool socks, books, and porcelain.
Of rain that taps on window glass
And hours that don’t feel rushed to pass.

You don’t have to shine here.
You don’t have to bloom.
You can just be
A body in a warm, dim room.

We light a candle.
We let things go.
We learn the art of moving slow.
Not stuck. Not lost.
Just… still.
For once, we let the silence fill.

And Halloween?
That sacred game
Where masks reveal more than they claim.
Where even ghosts feel less alone.
Where shadows say: you’re not unknown.

See, in autumn…
You’re allowed to fall apart.
To feel the ache inside your heart.
To wear your layers, show your seams
And sleep beneath the weight of dreams.

The world gets dark.
But not in fear.
It just means night is drawing near.
And in that dusk, we start to see
The quiet truth: we’re finally free.

So let the others chase the sun.
Let them bloom and come undone.
I’ll be here
Where curtains fall.
In autumn.
Deepest truth of all.

Valentina
ROSSI SCHMID
103