Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2020
Rain gone now.
Earth a wet void.
Warm night air,  
A fine summer show.
Bright moon,
Shines in my eyes.
Dreams, clear streams,
falling on stones.
Faint clouds roar,
"Who now heads home?"
The trees then answer,
"Who wants to know?"
Scenes of summer
Will never stay.
But I,
I will always remain.
Written by
Ron
19
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems