The Call For Rain
“Rain will come, but when? When? ”
Said Ravi Singh to his farmer men.
It was already July summer,
But the rains did not even mummer.
The sky was clear,
Ravi Singh only had a sigh to wear.
The rains were already late,
The fields were in a drought state,
If the rains did not come soon now,
There would be no food even for the cow.
Ravi had to do something, but what? What?
It was like playing in a lot.
Ravi wanted to talk to god, but how? how?
Would he write a letter to god now?
The only way to talk to god was a letter,
To god, it would matter
The post master laughed on and on,
The letter was then torn.
In the August beginning,
Rains came with much happiness,
Wealth and prosperity.
Water filled the cans, fields.
The rains came with happy life.
The rains sent away all the strife.
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Comments about this poem (The Call For Rain by Siddhant Sharma )
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(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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(1873 - 1958)
(August 19, 1902 – May 19, 1971)
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- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Daffodils, William Wordsworth
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- All the World's a Stage, William Shakespeare
- Death is Nothing at All, Henry Scott Holland