Petrichor

Fresh muddied earth & iron ore.
Nature’s pungent pique: petrichor.

Bright battery scent after rains.
Remnant drop evidence remains.

Glass clad grass blades & leafy gems.
Peach fuzz hair on dew laden stems.

Humid air; not heavy, but there.
Watery dampness everywhere.

Gray storm worn skies whisper of sun.
Parting clouds signal rainfall’s done.

All the wet goes silver or gold.
Water’s diamonds when light beholds.

Temperature & brightness climbing.
Delicately laid mist shining.

Radiated light burns off hoar.
Thus dissipating petrichor.

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lbstowe

I see the world through a Painter’s eyes and process it with a Poet's Heart....it's quite a harsh place for the soul. It scratches and wears your true self down, at times, but the Beauty is Addictive. I feel for everyone I encounter. Everyone I encounter is a teacher if I'll let them be. I Empathize with everyone I talk to & I Think about Everything-LEVi

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