The monsoons are here! Yay!
They call you petrichor,
O, ambrosial scent of rain!
I die my way through summer,
Just waiting, waiting for you.
Your name doesn't do justice
To your unearthly beauty.
A priceless perfume gifted with love
From the heavens above.
I'm searching, frantic, through books and songs,
For a phrase, an adjective, a word
To describe you in all your essence,
But human language is too paltry for such a mighty task.
I'm a lover, besotted.
Want to commit your features to memory
Want to lean forwards and breathe you in
Want to write sensual verse about you
I watch as the raindrops descend
Like cold silvery comets and hit the ground
A symphony with millions of instruments
Nature's most beautiful Orchestra.
It's the music that heralds your arrival
And then there you are!!
You fill my thirsty lungs, my lusting heart
I think I'm alive again.
The earth blushes green and brown
As the rain smothers her with his hungry kisses
An intimate reunion. And there's me,
Wrapped up in your embrace.
O petrichor......
YOU ARE READING
NEPENTHE
PoetryHi there! The word NEPENTHE means anything that induces forgetfulness of sorrow or pain. I, for one, believe that little things like smiles, my mother's comfort food and long walks are the best forms of nepenthe around. These poems celebrate the s...
