A Melancholy Song Poem by reshma joy

By the dry days of june
As the sun threatnens away the clouds
Glaring with heat at noon
I'm expected to be coming soon.

The first time I pour down,
As pearls streaked on vine,
The sun leaves to mourn,
While the cold waits next in line.

As i wash everything with care,
With dark clouds hovering around,
Creatures hide in their lair,
Preoccupied with the duties they are bound.

As the time flies, they begin cursing me.
I'm sad that its only my harshness they see.