PETRICHOR
by Reya Bato
I tried to compose a tune
to the rhythm of falling raindrops.
Under the darkening clouds,
I penned an unhappy ballad.
The cold wind whistled through
freezing the mist on the air
As the chill lingered about
the sorrow in my hymn grew.
When the lightning flashed,
clasps of thunder crashed
accompanied by the distant rumblings,
my song turned to ranging growling.
The rain had stopped
freshness penetrated the earth
the sweet and musky scent
brought me a blissful chant.
#reb'27-09-2012
I miss the rain. :)
