Alfalfa Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Alfalfa



Alfalfa

It is rain, it is storm
Wind and gust take the soul
The trees to the grass cry howl
"It's painful please stop."

They all shake
They bow and bend
"Surrendered" each one says
But Zeus is angered shows finger.


Things have calmed
Thunder's gone
Rain stopped

Air is fresh
Grass soaked
It smells alfalfa

Wednesday, June 18, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: nature
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