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Bathing in the rays of the summer sun,
while walking in the splendor of the day.
The humid wind sang a low and dry tune,
of the passing fragrance of children at play.
Their voices beckoned an array of flavor,
of delinquent pleasure of an afternoon iced tea.
Each eager mouth swam in splendid awe,
their tongues cater to chips and cookies.
Swiftly, the bright and scintillating heaven,
was covered by clouds of gloomy layered blankets.
A cool breeze mixed with the hot humid air,
felt like cascading limbo in sudden darkness.
A slow drizzle then a vociferous orchestra,
of lightning and thunder clashing in the sky.
A heavy pour of what were once icicles,
fell on cracked and parched ground, so dry.
The children provoked war games with the cold shower,
but, a quick retreat was called from up above.
The sun shone ever brighter as if to say,
“You have no right to play with the summer rain.”
After a short conversation with JenaIsle, I had a spark of inspiration to write this poem.
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