A Poem By Elizabeth Anne // 10/19/2012

The first drop touches down,
Glistening in the sun
Like the greatest King’s crown.

Brushing the earth,
Cracked and dry,
It satisfies the soul
And is pleasing to the eye.

The second drop hits,
Flying to the earth,
Buried in the ground,
Encouraging new birth.

The dust rises,
Trying to greet the rain
As the sun rises
And smiles on the plain.

The dry ground,
Parched for a drink,
Lifts up its face
At the sound of each “plink”

As the droplets slow
And then disappear,
The sweet smell rises
Like a sweet spring of life


EXCEPTIONAL. An absolute well

EXCEPTIONAL. An absolute well done. I am totally Great, brilliant job.

Maddi | Sat, 10/20/2012

Goodbye? Oh no, please. Can’t we just go back to page one and start all over again?” – Winnie The Pooh


Your poems are always beautiful. I love it. You put it into words well. Great job!

Lucy Anne | Sat, 10/20/2012

"It is not the length of life, but the depth of life." Ralph Waldo Emerson

Thank you both. I'm glad you

Thank you both. I'm glad you like it, this is one of my favorites. I am working on a short story now by the same title, and I hope to post it soon.

Elizabeth Anne | Sat, 10/20/2012

See him with his books:
Tree beside the brooks,
Drinking at the root
Till the branch bear fruit.
See him with his pen:
Written line, and then,
Better thought preferred,
Deep from in the Word.
~John Piper

I'm /very/ interested in the

I'm /very/ interested in the short story after reading this...

Anna | Sat, 11/10/2012

I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. --The Book Thief