Summer Rain
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I trace a pour along the field of woe
As ireful winds gush onto rainfall’s doom;
Boughs curling wet lobes; these eyes cast below
On a marble stone where tears are endured :
My heart begins to pray for summer’s glow
To find relief from deep mist now obscured...
Till heaven opens golden night, widespread
Allowing hours with my child in graveyard’s bed.
Contest of Dale Gregory Cozart: SUMMER RAIN STORM
9/3/2017
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2017
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