A drip, a drop, heard to go plop
Long awaited to quench our thirst of us
And our parched land.
Ears straining to catch the drops quickening.
To hear the rain’s first gentle patter,
Before a torrent falls to fill wells
And rivers and reservoirs for all.
Just hope it turns off before a flood appears
With which many cannot live.
2023 © Penny Wobbly of WobblingPen
Photo: Pixabay License
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