
The rains return from after sun
Dampening soil and bringing awakening
Roots reach down a drink to share
And from moist earth new blooms are hastening
Padre
The rains return from after sun
Dampening soil and bringing awakening
Roots reach down a drink to share
And from moist earth new blooms are hastening
Padre
When the sun through clouds creeps
And warm beams the soils do dry
It is like a sweet regeneration
As freshly watered plants reach to sunlit sky
Pathways steam in the warming sun
And flowers their blooms stretch open
All is refreshed and new again
And sound returns to the solar fountain
Its splash and trickle instead of the rain
At least until the clouds return again
Padre
When rains
Arrive beating
Winds howl and fences creak
Be thankful for prescious moisture
Cloud born
Water
While at times falling – unwelcome
Still is a life giver
The Spring picnics
Can wait
Padre
After an April with near drought conditions, I was glad to see much needed rain. Yet all across social media people were complaining that the May Bank Holiday was a “wash-out.” This despite the fact that the pandemic is still a very real thing.
Written for Colleen’s Poet’s Choice challenge.
Rain falls
On damp pavement
Night falls on city streets
Commuters scramble homeward-bound
To sleep
Padre
As the rhythmic beat of the wipers competed with the ebb and crescendo of the drumming of the rain, Mort watched as the motorists whose only ailment was an allergy to getting rained-on scrambled from the disabled parking spaces. Mort watched, and thought to himself how much he hated the task which lay before him; but his mission – as feared and despised as death itself – beckoned. He took a deep breath, then adjusting the rain cover on his uniform cap, he grabbed his ticket book and exited the Parking Control vehicle.
—————
Padre
Pixabay
Dust-dry ground heated
And soon to be baked by the sun
Bleached grass and receding ponds
E’er since the Spring begun.
Where are those kisses of moisture sweet,
Those drops of cooling life?
Wispy cloud pass over head
But their rich treasures they withhold.
Then it happens a few sharp drops,
Bullet-like pelt the ground.
Dust explodes from impact firm
But then the barrage does cease
The teasing done, the clouds move on
Leaving the sun to bake in peace
Padre
Image by Erika Varga from Pixabay
The wet kiss of mist
The refreshing cloud-borne gift
Life-giving raindrops
Padre
Heeding Haiku With Chèvrefeuille, March 11th 2020, raindrops