Sunday, May 9, 2010

Indian Summer

It is May; it is summer; it is hot and sweltering; it is the season for mangoes and hot pickles; as the temperature soars the tempers fly; the Earth thirsts for water as the Sun pours hot molten light; the leaves wither and the air goes dry; of an evening thunder and lightning shower promise of rain, but hot winds blow it away and leave everything high and dry; in the day the roads burn and the light blinds; the nights are sultry and find one spent and listless; in May the summer peaks.
Sent from Nokia Smartphone

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