#MonsoonPoem
From a distance,
The incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
Sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
Travelling in a raft,

When she landed,
On the island,
Mother earth was dying with thirst,
And burning with fire's crust,

She was sent here,
To heal the mother earth,
She whispered a spell in her ears,
And all her wounds disappeared,

She sprinkled the magic portion all- around,
Refilled the empty pond,
Fulfilled her thirst,
Finally tears of happiness rolled down the cheeks of mother earth,

© 𝑯𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓