When summer drought was choking earth with dust,
our yard became a dry and parched terrain.
My husband sat and fumed in mild disgust
and wished each day a thousand times for rain.

“Why don’t you turn the sprinkler on?” I said.
“Because I can’t afford such great expense,”
he groaned and looked for storm clouds overhead
and wished a gully washer would commence.

Then thunder boomed; a streak of lightning popped
and rain came rushing down from clouds of gray.
“Wasn’t that nice?” I asked, when it had stopped.
His only words:  “It washed my soil away!”

c Copyright, 2012, Freeda Baker Nichols

6 comments on “Gratitude

  1. Catherine Johnson says:

    That’s fabulous and funny too, Freeda. Glad you got some rain.


  2. Pitty says:

    Very appropriate for this time of THIS year. Good rhyming words. I like it.


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