Drought

Dear Mama and Papa,
 

  What trying times it has been. There is a drought, and I am hoping we are to see the end of it soon, but my hope is waning. Miss Lynn is my new guard, she is kind…but I think we annoy each other too often. No matter, we make do.
 

I am sitting among my friends Copper and Nelendor, along with my Papa and Father. A lot is going on, and I suddenly feel overwhelmed, so I sit a bit off, and listen to their talk. I find writing poems helps me to calm, so here we go...

Poem 1:

Eira's hand fell across her stomach, gazing beyond the library's gazebo into the angry summer sky. Not a cloud was above her. The gazebo usually had a fanciful fountain working with flowing, rich waters. Now, the well was dried up and hot from the sun's relentless beatings. The drought was taking its tole… She closed her eyes, looking back to the previous night.

Syllea groaned as she turned over in bed again. Sweat drenched her underclothes/bedtime clothes and dripped from her brow. She sits up and places her bare feet on the floor.

"This heat is killing me." She mutters before standing up and pacing the room.