Dearth

Summers grow dry.
But sceptics deny,
And welcome grapes in England’s
Once green and pleasant land.

The watering can and hosepipe
Refresh the earth
Day and night.

There is a dearth.
For, I find
Within the sceptic’s mind
A different kind,
Of drout.

6 thoughts on “Dearth

  1. blindzanygirl

    Good morning Kevin. I like the layers of meaning in this. Good for a summer’s day, though it has done nothing but rain here lately!

    Reply
    1. K Morris Poet Post author

      Hello, Lorraine. Its good to receive your comment, and I’m pleased that you appreciate my poem. It has rained quite a bit here in London also. However, speaking to family who live in Liverpool, it has rained there rather more than in my neck of the woods. But, as you know, the north of England is well known for rain! Best wishes, Kevin

      Reply
  2. Veronica

    Dear Kevin, I always enjoy the mesmerizing intricacy of your poems. They seem simple at first glance, yet on subsequent reading, new meanings are revealed! I agree that skeptics are more dangerous than the summer heat!
    Warmest Regards, Veronica

    Reply
    1. K Morris Poet Post author

      Dear Veronica. Thank you so much for your kind words on my poem. I like your statement that “sceptics are more dangerous than the summer heat!”. Best wishes, Kevin

      Reply

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