Rain Across The Valley. Poem by Mike Berriman

Across our valley the rain is falling
The parched earth tired and faintly calling
A solitary drop then more to follow
Flowing quickly from crack to hollow.

Pregnant clouds dark and moving
Bump each other without choosing
Thunder rolls, this invading sound
Puddles form on powdery ground.

Brown and yellow water running
Where once were lizards sunning
Floating twigs and leaves so dry
Washed away under streaming sky.


From this wet earth newly torn
Comes the silt to be reborn
Spread on pastures in a stream
Changing crops from brown to green.

This is rain our friend and foe
This we need for crops to grow
On the land we laugh then cry
Too much wet then too much dry.

MB 4/2016