The Pluviophile -Poem
The farmer awaits for petrichore .. He is passing by the desiccated shore Woebegone by the deteroiting crop Seems like the rain is livid , there up Heeded on the clouds , Missing the rainy tea slurp.. The devil is loxen.
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The farmer awaits for petrichore .. He is passing by the desiccated shore Woebegone by the deteroiting crop Seems like the rain is livid , there up Heeded on the clouds , Missing the rainy tea slurp.. The devil is loxen.









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