The rains poured down, they soaked the ground,
And turned the dust to mud.
It never quit, just let up a bit,
What next, a righteous flood?
Last spring had sprung, no cloud here hung,
To bring us farmers rains.
We killed the weeds, and drilled the seeds,
But got little for our pains.
Last summer too, the rains so few,
The crops just shriveled here.
Sure, clouds rolled in, we waited then,
We watched them disappear.
Now lakes are full, the rivers too,
The dam’s about to break.
When rains slowed some, by then dad gum,
The ground no more could take.
The rains did stop, that steady drop,
But left behind the mud.
The ground’s just juice, to no good use;
Here comes that righteous flood.
© SPWilcenski 2020