Farmer's lamentation
Raining ceased a long time ago,
Seeds sprouts not from soil.
Cause all are imprisoned,
In the dungeons of the earth.
The soil is hard as rock,
Daring the friendly how.
To come near and thrust,
My once green field.
Now scrappy and brown with dirt,
It's whirlwind, dust and no rain.
***
In times of waking,
My first sight is the sky.
Begging the heaven,
To shed us tears of joy.
And release the jailed seeds,
But my plea moves not the sky.
It comes clear and dry,
Scorning the earth with looks.
Day, night and day again,
Man, animals, crops all wonder,
When will rain fall?
***
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Poems We Are Fighting For (Completed)
Poetry*** Poems We Are Fighting For *** Poems are about observing the world with and around us. A poem can be anything: from love to loss, from the rusty gate at the old farm to your lovely parents at home. This consists of poems you can be proud to meet...
