Water

 

 

A cold drink of water on a hot August afternoon.

 

The taste could be no sweeter than pure sugar from the cane.

Its taste is more sought after than a cool spring rain.

 

The smell of a crystal clear, clean stream babbling on its way,

through trees whose boughs are reaching ever higher

to block the sun's warming rays.

I hear the stream a-calling,

"come and quench your thirst today."

 

Nothing could be more refreshing on a humid, steamy, August day.