Summer

Sunlight hitting the dusty road
In a land where lies the Sun's abode
The blazing sun parches the land
Trees like silent watchers stand
Waving in the gentle breeze.

The children are told not to go out
In the sun, not to walk about
They wear their cottons and under the fan
Make their grandiose evening plan
As they wait for the clock to tick.

The water bottles lie in the fridge
As the sun lights the golden ridge
Of distant houses, baked in the heat
Their owners having flip-flopped feet
And basking in the shade.

The distant sound of hawking
Some local ice-cream, people flocking
Far away their bells toll away
All hoping for a cooling spray
In the form of a summer shower.

The fruits are ripening on the trees
The Koel's call is carried by the breeze
The juicy mangoes are cherished by all
Golden yellow in the season of Sol
Waiting for devouring.

At last, the gentle winds caress you soft
And the warm smells of petrichor around you waft
The drizzle cools the thirstly land
And splashes upon your outstretched hand
To bring joy and water to all.