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Okay, here’s my poem. 🙂 Let me know what you think. If I hadn’t said it was about friendship, would you have made the connection? @steward-of-the-pen @evelyn @j-a-penrose

Dry Spells

Days come when spells of dearth sweep in
Like tumbleweeds rolling down.
Though rust climbs on the water can,
Keep plowed the fallow ground.

See how far the eye can mark
This plain of endless brown.
Though desolate, the soil is dark;
Keep plowed the fallow ground.

A somber mist springs from the earth
In the field which you have sown.
This longed-for sign will end the dearth;
Keep plowed the fallow ground.

The water can drums with rain,
A deep, enchanted sound.
Your faithful work was not in vain;
Keep plowed the fallow ground.

As rows of sprouts lift up their heads
From the dark and loamy mounds,
You see your work is now to tend,
This friendly verdant ground.

Dry spells come and dry spells go;
Prepare your heart and mind.
In season and out desire to
Keep plowed your fallow ground.