For the Grass is always Greener...

For the Grass is always Greener...

On a still day in June, 
Sweating in the heat of mid noon,
When wall feel like working oven,
Roof as ready as a flat bread kiln.

Miles away the rain comes out to play, 
With words and sighs of relief,
Conquering the searing rays,
Or so is the native's belief.

You wonder at your misfortune,
Wishing for the rain to come soon, 
As months walk alongside you, 
Each a day hopeful new. 

In comes the month, penultimate,
Bringing in a downpour ultimate,
Walls weep of extra weight,
Peeling away the colourful paint.

Thus, on a wet day in November,
Recollecting a proverb once heard,
You wade through water as you remember, 
Every crevasse on every road.

Sitting with floors n' wall damp and moist,
Now you wish for the sun's heat to hoist,
For the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence,
Wouldn't you, now take every day as it meanders and bends!