How dim the lightning strikes the ground at dusk
And how the rain drops down to raise the floods
And all the toads, both big and small, Come out
To call their mates all night from in their lairs
They scream, they cry, they make all noise until
They get their loves delight and then return
From whence they've come, buried in the earth
A week or two they come no more, they wait
Until Monsoon once more floods the shore so
Full their babies fill the soft, moist, arid desert land
And vultures swirl their circles closer pray
What is there to eat today. Until at dusk
It comes again. Those flashes and strikes that
Draw the eyes to heaven's glory fest
Strobe-lit clouds release their unmatched fury
Washing down all dust and drawing more toads.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem