Savoring the Monsoon

Drip, Drop, Plop,

Skip, Jump, Hop,

She follows the raindrop’s trail,

Trying to catch its tail,

Sliding on the rose trellis,

And the balcony rail.


“Quick, Mumma, it slips away”,

An upward glance she lays,

On her Mother, standing guard,

Over her innocent play.


The coltish mind reasons,

“There’s other tails to catch”.

Out she thrusts one tiny hand,

To gather the clouds in her clasp.


Then lo and behold, she grows tall,

Mumma has held her up,

She opens that small ‘O’ on her face,

And savors the monsoon,

Gathered  in her cup.



© Pradita Kapahi, 2017.

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30 thoughts on “Savoring the Monsoon

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