The Long Drought

Clouds gathered darkening the sky. A distant rumble told of rain, and the parched earth prayed - 'Please, let it pour.' The first drops made tiny rivulets and the trees sighed, 'ah, bliss.' The rumble grew louder, followed by a mighty clap of thunder. Down it came, the blessed rain. Unevenly at first - then harder. The scorched earth drank it up in thirsty gulps, and the trees were cleansed of gathered dust. Just as suddenly, it stopped. 'Don't go rain, ' the earth implored; 'You've barely wet our surface.' But the rain had gone - and the trees wept rusty tears.