Drought

A poem by Delaney | 3/22/2008
The dying daisy bows her head
And sends a prayer up to the sky.
The fading grass has done it's best
To face the thirst and just survive.

Oh rain, oh rain, where are you now?
Dear God, please do not let us die.
We dream of rivers raining down
Drowning out our thirsty cry.

How little shade there is today,
But Hope - it numbs our thirst for now.
Oh Miracle disguised as rain;
Dear God please send an ocean down.
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Ezra | Sat, 03/22/2008 - 5:11pm

Very nice

Taylor | Sat, 03/22/2008 - 11:09pm

Delany, your style reminds me of Emily Dickenson, in that you seem to prefer rhymed quartets and capitalize words of particular importance. This particular piece, especially in the echo of the final line, held the ring of a Negro spiritual, to my ears at least. I like the imagery you use and the finish. Great job.

Delaney | Fri, 05/30/2008 - 11:18pm

I admit that the only poetry I was reading at the time I wrote this was Emily Dickinson's.