Nicholas Bradvica Poetry

Oh, the leaves surely scatter,
As morning winds arrive anon,
Rain and hail, more so the latter,
Conceal the weeping, rising dawn,

And so the sun pours down its tears,
Upon the ancient scape of land,
To wash away the distant years,
And drain away the grains of sand,

Oh, the sun cowers in fear,
Amid the clouds that hath brought rain,
If only the sun could faintly hear,
The rain against the window pane,

And crying softly amongst the sky,
Sits the weeping, wailing sun,
He sobs deeply wondering why,
The rain and hail are not yet done,

Oh, the clouds sit in waiting,
As the sun softly cries,
Down below are birds berating,
The sun’s hiding in the skies,

And as the rain falters so,
The weeping, wailing sun appears,
He sobs deeper once he knows,
That it is he who sheds these tears.

Poet: Nicholas Bradvica