The Drought

A tired farmer looks upon the skies,
His longing eyes searching for signs of rain!
He’s standing ’midst a field of with’ring crops;
His hard work could end up again in vain.
The drought this year has been the worst of all;
The wells are dry; bore-wells need more deep’ning;
The ignominy’s unable to bear;
His sullen frame is moving like a snail!
While Mother Earth’s parched lips beg to be quenched,
The air is sultry and the sun scorching;
No cloud is seen that bears some hope of rain;
It seems he’s speaking from within his heart!
Though weather-forecasts kept exploding myths,
More greedy middle-men were cheating them;
The farmers had to subsist on field-rats!
What only could appease the Rain-Gods’ wrath?

Copyright by DR JOHN CELES 14-3-2004

by Dr. A.Celestine Raj Manohar M.D.,

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