Dry Spell Poem by Soma Mukherjee

Just when I thought monsoons have finally arrived
To soak my parched soul with hope and love
It was all gone with the wind
Oh she is such a tease, the cloud
All her dark promises of heaven
All her soothing whispers
All the anticipation of thirst quenching showers
All blown away at the first caress of breeze
While the breeze and the cloud sway to the music
And flash their passion so candidly
I am left to sweat it out all alone
In my hot and humid shack
And While I thank God for all the free sauna
It wouldn’t hurt to have an occasional mud pack.