Best Seasonsearth Poems
Caught the scent of the earth divine
The clouds are here, could sense the rain
Mind succumbs to the heart of love
Its time to rejoice, no matter how!
Listen to the trees smile and scream
The rustle of the leaves makes the surrounds gleam
The drops from the heaven make the earth come alive
The birds fly home, the kids jump and dive
The winds scare away the thundering clouds
The clouds run for cover, comes out the sun proud
The drops disappear as steam, makes the earth frown
The sky looks dry, the spirits go deep down
Clouds, white or gray gone
Not leaving a trace behind
And pure azure blue skies, drown
In blinding sunshine.
Summer has arrived
The sun beats down on the plains
Mercilessly, changing life
Once quite green, now pale.
Yet flowers do bloom
yellow accents fields gone dry
Vines in red, rose and purple hues
Cacti, their blooms bright.
Yet the earth suffers
Turned beggar, longs for water
Mountains turn rusty amber
River beds' dry stare.
But deep underneath
Thermal volcanic water
A treasure is found, healing
Giving courage, dream.
The winds pick up speed,
As the sun descends the blue
Transforming the ski's appeal
Orange and mauve hues.
Temperatures cool down
The earth is relief from scorch
People come out, still look out
For a sign of clouds.
When at last they come
Not a complain is heard, but
in all their hearts, dread is gone
The promise is up.
By CarolineCecile
Copyright © 07.09.11
Torrents of melancholy brine cascade from leaden skies;
Mirroring the salty streams of tears that seep from my sapphire eyes;
Folded limbs of bruised porcelain reach out to feel the patter of the rain;
Each stinging drop a tiny shard of ancient liquid pain;
Muddied pools form on a thirsty earth that drinks and drinks and drinks;
My own parched heart does nothing but watches, waits, and sinks, sinks, sinks…
With the monsoon comes a stultifying death of putrefaction to leaf and bough;
Matching the decay that stirs the topsoil of my soul like the blade of a rusty plough;
Snails drag their curlicue shells through promising forests of lush mossy growth;
Just as slow my sighing breaths sift through my lips uttering silent bitter oaths;
The monsoon season is a blessing to the earth and a curse to a trapped soul;
Bound by adolescent selfishness I think only of myself not of the whole;
Forgetting the urgent thirst of the ground for water I curse the curtaining rain;
Staring mutinously into the gloomy grey day with my face pressed against a cold window
pane;
Rain, rain, I murmur through reproachful lips, go away;
And please I entreat you -- return again some other day…