Summer Rain

Rain comes marching across the fields
A rushing sound
And the dry, cracked ground
Thirstily drinks.

Withered trees wave their drooping limbs
In the fresh wind.
Branches sway and bend

Small inhabitants of the grass
Quiver in awe,
Watching the rain draw
Its grey curtain.

A parched earth waits in eagerness
The coming rain.
Roused to life again
By lively wind.


Popular posts from this blog

Coffee Lover