Grey woods wearing green garbs of rain,
In gay abandon dance in rain.
Monsoon-mad, losing old restraint,
All nature opts to swoon in rain.
Pounded by pouring rain, in strain,
Poor dust so scared settles in rain.
Eyes of iron burn, feel the pain,
Turn rusty reddish brown in rain.
When glass-like brittleness they gain,
Seeds split up to sprout shoots in rain.
Weary pens under summer's strain,
When pick up new rainy refrain,
Ah new ardour seem to attain
From brews blended with blobs of rain!
Monsoon was almost over for some time. And suddenly there came sea-based low pressure and rains. And welcome relief as if monsoon was here again. This poem, a Ghazal, celebrates fortuitous rains.
The beauty and the need of rain have been beautifully captured in this ghazal which is not so commonly composed in English language. Thanks.
glad to see you are reading your own poems AP
A thrilling expression is made on monsoon and rain. Beautifully crafted. I cite...When glass-like brittleness they gain, /Seeds split up to sprout shoots in rain. Gorgeous work. Thanks for sharing. Five stars.
Wonderful poem. Love its rhyme and rhythm
A lovely poem. Beautifully crafted and presented. So mellifluous when read.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem
Sir you have made rain to look way beyond imagination yet the touch of reality exists. The metaphorical iron eyes turn rusty in rain... beautiful transformational understanding... really good sir.