To the tunes of the monsoon breeze,
Dance the lush green trees.
The water drops fall on their leaves,
Washing away their worries.
I fancy that these raindrops can talk,
For they can call the peacock,
And get his majesty to spread his wings,
Ah such magnificent things!
Before meeting her lover that heaven sent,
The earth puts on a lovely scent.
So just before the water hits the ground,
A lovely fragrance is around.
Those dark clouds play with flashy lightning,
Unaware that thunder’s frightening.
Thunderous applause what a fun game of tennis!
Below, my city turns into Venice.
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Author:
Ladywithaquill (
Offline) - Published: August 13th, 2024 05:31
- Comment from author about the poem: Been going through a terrible writing slump. This poem is an attempt to start to write again. And whenever I want to write but I don't know what to write about, I turn to describing the weather. Here's a short piece about monsoon in Indian :)
- Category: Nature
- Views: 10
- Users favorite of this poem: Qurrathul Ain
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Comments1
I have to say there are some marvelous metaphors contained in a most anthropomorphic poem with great rhyme and vivid images. I think I love most the reference of earth putting on the perfume of the rain. A most wonderful write.
Thank you! That particular reference was inspired by my own love of the petrichor smell, and the metaphors used in sanskrit, hindi, and urdu poetry. I am glad you enjoyed it 🙂
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