There's a crackle in the air— the static buzz of a summer storm brooding in the sky Summer storms are magical... I like to dance in the summer rain unlike the winter rain, when I hide indoors away from the biting cold and wet. Today dark clouds build in the west— the air feels hot, filled with static electricity Nothing but a torrential downpour and the loudest claps of thunder would send me running for cover now. A summer storm is on the way I can feel it... I imagine myself running and playing in the warmth of that sparkling summer rain. I know this rain gives life— I wait for the parched grass to turn green again. Please let it rain! So Mote it Be! © Colleen M. Chesebro
I rarely write freestyle poetry, but after my walk today, all I could think about was how parched my part of Michigan has become. In my neighborhood, the friendly sounds of grass mowing, has altogether ceased. The grass doesn’t grow without the rain. Our city water is costly, and with the economic restraints on our budgets already maxed out; we choose not to water the grass.
If only it would rain!