Monsoon Blessing
--Anacreontic Verse--
Dry heavens build
Temple to the North
Fluff billows up from
Crags to stratosphere
Midnight cover
Issues forth
Engulfs solar orb
Cloud King’s dance begins
Footfalls fill the sky
Grape press of the Gods
Now drowns our sins
Monsoon rain’s vintage
Pours down from high
Deep lilac cloudburst,
His hands touch plain
Land surrenders
Its sweet release
Breathe floral musk
Of desert rain
Once parched ground revels
Moist in its surcease
Light fragrance spiced
Sweet pollen with our
Kiln-baked sins, the
Hint of ancient bones
Astringent whiff of
Ozone’s bite within
Intoxicating
Rich organic loam
Dry rivers pregnant
Rough land transforms
To fertile home
Soft fragrance
Of a harsh world
Yet renewed
8/7/16
For contest: Anacreontic Verse 4
Sponsor: Edward Ebbs
Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016
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