RAIN

I entreated politely near the cloud,

To grace her droplets on my field.

“The crops of my pen seeks your droplets,

As much as lovers desire the moonlit night.

Thirsty travelers hunt for oasis in a desert,

A hungry stomach feels the essentiality of esculents.

A man drifting in a current needs a favorable luck,

 A mountaineer requires oxygen cylinder on a peak.”

She realized my arid and pathetic condition,

 Her gracious core adjudged to grant my application.

She gathered vapors from water bodies with much penchant,

 Poured her heavenly content for my appeasement.

I did not care my age or taunts of my neighbors,

Danced and rejoiced like a child in her showers.

I tried to catch hold of each droplet in both of my fists,

Like an innocent baby does with her mother’s ringlets.

My eyes flooded salty juice with joy and excitement,

As I enjoyed the nectar to my heart’s content.

As the two sanctimonious flows got amalgamated,

My pen began flowing on the paper with full speed.