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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 1. Form: Free Verse/Theme: Indulgence Singing those praises in church, I see a vision of a parched earth. Geosmin scent ascends; or descends. Transference between reality and surreality. My mind is soaked in soil microbes, no shower sensation in sight. Today it might rain; or not. Sunday, I’ll be praising in church, whether, or not, we get relief; but there will be comforting amidst the suffering; or not. Can you tell, Georgia needs rain? Our birds crave it. My lillies lay in wait to relieve the scorch of Summer heat. I am conditioned with air, but I need to hear the rain and smell the petrichor ‘plash. For that I’ll accept the invitation to sit on my screened-in deck, hopefully hear the roar of thunder, and the whooshing wind through the plush leaves, as the treasures of heaven, fall like silver coins, to make mud. 2. Form: Rhyme/Theme: Indulgence Sing chorus of reality; A parched sur’ality. From the dry earth, a scent ascends; Geosmin scent descends. In soil microbes, my mind awoke, tempting shower, a soak. Where rainfall’s sensation is bliss, The serpent-earth’s amiss. Today the rain might fall; or not - Our suffering; or not. In church, we will be still and praise - Weather or not, we’ll praise. I think you know, Georgia needs rain. The birds crave its refrain. Relieve the scorch of Summer heat. My lillies wait for beat. Air-conditioned, am I, but I Am longing drench, not shy. I wish to smell the petrichor - A splash of rain, adore. To hear the roar of thunder-speak; The whooshing wind, this week. Heaven’s treasures pour out and sud And mix the silver’d mud. I’ll sit on deck and marvel at The rush of leaves, the splat; Splish-splosh and churning soil to cure Descend, ascend, endure.
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