Nature
The scorching yellow has dim
and the cuckoos call out to each other.
parading above the paddy of gold
are grey tufts of warm and humid clouds
lunging onto the trees,
with crackles and flashes of silver light.
Boughs of ripe mangoes sway
marigolds and freesias cup all they get
quenching their thirst after a rigid summer’s reign.
Tapping on my roof
like a child playing drums on dinner plates
the pitter and patter goes on.
the earthy smell rise as weeds stretch and flowers yawn.
the season of rain
of nature’s music, of cold nights and
new blooms.
The season of mirth as woodsmoke
tangle with petrichor.
Rain like a true Knight
galloping around.
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