A myriad of silver spears.
The raindrops pierce the earth below.
They rarely come and quickly go.
Then as expected there appears
questing green shoots which quickly grow
into a great variety
of pretty flowers seen to be
as fine as any flower show.
Selected by men carefully
to demonstrate how much they know
of cultivation sure and slow
and always scientifically.
The desert flowers daren’t be slow.
Their growing season is too short.
They set their seed just as the ought
within the soil and wait below.
Until the silver spears report
in massed array once again.
Bombard the thirsty earth with rain
to nourish growth of every sort.
Across the lifeless desert plain.
The seed are waiting patiently
until the raindrops set them free
from the dry soil to bloom again.
4-Oct-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poetic piers
Another great poem with a delicious touch of nature. Loved it. A '10! ' Best Wishes, Marilyn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ahh you have painted a fascinating picture in this write Ivor! Bravo my friend! *10*! ! Best regards! Thad