Drought Won Too or Drought To One
Dewdrops on hedgerows once we knew,
Rainbows bridging the sky,
Over our heads dark storm clouds grew,
Ugly, we thought, - but why?
Grieving for failed crops we view
Here fields that once grew spry,
Too arid, unproductive too,
Dust ridden waste, bone dry.
Rose sere upon the stem, no clue
Of moisture meets the eye,
Unless the tears that filter through
Good news to bad reply.
Heat comes to roost-roast, all’s askew,
Turns wild oats sown awry...
poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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