Scent of Rain

The sun beat down upon her back
Slowly caressing the last of her strength from her body
Old so old her energy all spent in the search for shade
Her throat parched and dry. But no moisture lay in this land
The grass had long since browned and died with only the wind
To play tenderly with its once green leave’s and the sun with its cruel and unending heat to play upon its stems
On and on she went searching in hope she would find some shade
The pains that were like a lovers touch soft and caressing now
Screamed at her raking her once proud and beautiful body
Her burning eye’s full of dust searched no more
For upon a small hill stood a tree its branches all but bare
With sweat running down her neck and her heart pounding in her
Chest she made the effort to climb that hill.
At last she could rest in the shade of that half dead tree
Her once strong and slender leg’s became traitors and buckled
Beneath her with the sun’s last ray on the evening sky she closed her eyes and let the pain play upon her body
On through the night the pains grew so intense her body felt as if it was being torn apart
But at dawn where once laid a creature crippled with pain
Now stood a young and vigorous mare with her filly foal
And on the morning breeze came the scent of rain.

Janet klimpel COPYRIGHT 1990

Enchanted SAN'S

Enchanted San’s how grand that sounds
All mystic and mild
With shade’s of colour that melt together
And her petticoat tails gathered with style
With twilight comes many a caper and a valiant prince stands proud
The Jester plays a forbidden melody
But it is the night of rose’s and an elegant rumor has spread
Like a forest fire burning with passion and desire with the treasures of the heart to be found
Enchanted San’s has eyes for one, but the valiant prince is not in favor
For hidden desire burns like a solar fare and the midnight cherubs aim was true
And cupid’s gold burns deep
The forbidden truth is to be told
For it is an enchanted knight that holds her heart true
But this rustic lover has no heart
For he is a storyteller and tells of tails not true
For he has a game
A game only for the ladies
The Russian roulette of love.

Janet Klimpel © 2000
I hope you will all enjoy these poems
Royalla