A severe drought but water melons expanded
in the back yard of the farmhouse.
There was no hunt the whole night
and the hunter returns home
with his rusty shot gun.
Farm lassie counts the melons
for the week-end market
and they smiled each other
While he was passing the fence.
Very appealing little poem. Sometimes a smile is the light that warms the way for a fellow traveler in the journey of life. Kind regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a simple picture, Nimal, painted with a light touch. This has a haiku feel to it, if not its structure. I enjoyed it. love, Allie xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx