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The Witch of the Monsoon
#MonsoonPoem
From a distance, the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
conjuring spells of rain and thunder, with a flick of her wrist.
She brews a potion of clouds and mist, in her cauldron of the sky,
adding drops of lightning and hail, to make it potent and strong.
She stirs it with a gust of wind, and watches it boil and foam.
She pours it over the parched land, with a cackle of delight,
drenching the fields and the crops, with her elixir of life.
She smiles as she sees the greenery sprout, and the flowers bloom.
She is not a wicked witch, but a benevolent one,
who brings relief and joy, to the people and the earth.
She is the witch of the monsoon, and she loves her work.
© JR2K6
Oct 11 23
From a distance, the incessant chant of monsoon from south west,
sounds like an old witch practising her craft,
conjuring spells of rain and thunder, with a flick of her wrist.
She brews a potion of clouds and mist, in her cauldron of the sky,
adding drops of lightning and hail, to make it potent and strong.
She stirs it with a gust of wind, and watches it boil and foam.
She pours it over the parched land, with a cackle of delight,
drenching the fields and the crops, with her elixir of life.
She smiles as she sees the greenery sprout, and the flowers bloom.
She is not a wicked witch, but a benevolent one,
who brings relief and joy, to the people and the earth.
She is the witch of the monsoon, and she loves her work.
© JR2K6
Oct 11 23
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