The Drought On Dusty Plains
The wide brown land is dry
This drought makes grown people cry
When it hasn’t rained on the soil
It doesn’t matter how hard you toil
The Great Southern Land bides it time
As the azure blue sky is forever fine
A tough people those on the land
Especially when things don’t go to plan
So we are left to pray for rain
For it will come again
Until then we stand with them
Awaiting this harsh test to end.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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