Night falls, light calls "good-bye" to the day,
A rain wets grain with nourishing spray,
Then sweet petrichor, conjured from clay,
Urged on by the dawn, wafts over the bay,
Rigged ships that sit in berth at the quay,
Each hope the breeze will take them away.
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The Quiet Strangers
PoetrySometimes I think poems are like quiet strangers in the corner of the room waiting to be known. Only when time is taken to approach them is their richness revealed. Here you will find poems on nature, loss, hope, and the soul. Simple topics some mig...
Petrichor
Night falls, light calls "good-bye" to the day,
A rain wets grain with nourishing spray,
Then sweet petrichor, conjured from clay,
Urged on by the dawn, wafts over the bay,
Rigged ships that sit in berth at the quay,
Each hope the breeze will take them away.