By Denny George:
It’s been some hours
we’ve been playing this game
where she calls the wind
and I bring the rain
The wind blows past us
and asks her in pain
I’m here on your call, my dear
but where is the rain?
Embarrassed, my girl
she holds me and says
Oh wind! Have you no lover?
To win not, he plays
“I beg of you children
love is not a game
please quit this childplay
and call my lover — the rain
She’s angry with me
won’t heed my serenade
but to appease you lovers
she might just do the charade”
I pray really hard
in my bid to woo her
but all of it is in vain
since I’m not a believer
She asks me to calm down
and reprimands the wind
“Failed is your love, old man!
Don’t blame it on him”
Furious, he grows in rage
and moves violently,
assumes a crude shape
and pushes her gently
It stays with us
hovering in longing
pain ridden
moaning and roaring
Scared, she comes closer
I just miss her first kiss
as our faces almost merge
the rain hit her lips.