The day winds are cruel winds, Torrid winds whipping and burning And torturing a gasping earth. The still nights are sleepless nights With heat ghosts parading over the sered grass Of a new desert. The trees are silent sufferers With curling leaves Clutching and pleading for moisture. Hordes of grasshoppers, green and gold Thump from stem to stem Like vicious buzzards stealing life. Drought. From the open church windows Chanted litanies are heard -- Prayers for God's gift of rain. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BRITISH CHURCH by GEORGE HERBERT A LONDON FETE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 91 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE ARGONAUTS (ARGONATUICA): AMOR OMNIPOTENS by APOLLONIUS RHODIUS ODE, SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF MRS. OSWALD by ROBERT BURNS FIRST MATERNITY by KATHARINE BROWN BURT |