This write is a poetic expansion of an older poem that was called "Weaves".(Iambic tetrameter)
The buds were colorful like flames;
in blooming field while her advent
down pouring was, and flow in veins.
Unspoken were on distant sky;
(the maids' descent - rainfall god-sent) ,
splendid on fields, pure drops fell spry;
The clouds in solitude advanced
while raindrops formed air-hung new tropes
enduring bold color-enhanced
dew-scintillate the ferns on slopes.
On thrumming feast they jump and smile
the drops upon the road that shines
the orange trees in lines compile
dawn's maidens dance and weave designs.
Maids' ardent symphony of calls
from within rainfall's calm cadence
- they gallivant in heavens' Halls
Ideal forms on pristine dance.
The raindrops I transform to song,
sweet melody fates play - the leaves,
entreaty are that strings along
my blooming solitude they weave.