Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Thirsty Garden

RAIN SPATTERED and the wind howled in Surrey over the past several days. Although a cloud still broods on the horizon, the weather has settled and now the sun occasionally peeks through. Although I haven’t found any rainbows, (except for this windsock), I did find a poem due to a raindrop clinging to the eaves that suddenly plopped on my head. It got my attention and reminded me of a kid's poem I once wrote during an unusually dry spring in the Lower Mainland.


The garden sat silent and still ‘til
A raindrop plopped gently down
Onto the little boy’s nose

The sky watched the blob slowly roll
And slip to the tip where it swung
To and fro in a wet glow

The suspended bead splendidly hung
As it paused at the sloping edge
And clung to the tiny nose

The earth below saw the drop stop
Then arrive with a thud like a flood
Into the dusty garden

The garden gasped at long last
Knowing more rain would soon follow
To help its needy seeds grow

The dry ground tried for weeks
To speak to the little boy who
Paid no heed to his garden

Water me, please!

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful poem, Penelope! I could feel the garden's anticipation, and the sensation of that droplet landing on my own nose. Your words will help to remind me to be happy for the land, rather than frustrated with this wet holiday weather:)


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