The wind blew chanting long

While kneading the grass

As though

it was a baker’s dough

Heralding the change in the weather

Bringing down trees and unhooking leaves

Rustling up a storm so strong

Sending mice and wren

Scuttling to their dens;

Gloom sets in the noon day sky

Birds and flies flittered by

In a race against the winds

The roar of thunder gossiped high low

And flashes of lightning marked a show

Dramatizing the peace of the country surrounds

And shedding an eerie glow,

Radiant raindrops falling profusely

Drenching the dry dusty furrows

The sweet smell of dust and earth so welcome

Earth baked cracked and barren

Is now muddy, with promise of a rich morrow

Of gossamer fields and grasses

Earth drenched and bidding welcome

To plough and seed in the furrows

And plentiful harvest for the morrow

A deluge it was, submerging

The flood waters gently arising

Across the valleys and beyond

Lapping up all landscape drawn

In murky monotones and rushing on

Those fields sparsely planted

Bare hills and rabbit hutch

Streaming through pastures slanted

Meandering in pregnant river

In it’s downward journey to the South

Taking up in its wake homesteads,

And roots of trees and stone

Soaked down to the very bone

No waters still and in fury roar

Down the rapids journeying south

Yet we despair not for long

For thought of the plough

And the seed in the furrows

And promise of a brighter dawn.