P For Petrichor

I am the fragrance you yearn for

In the wet mud of the roads.

You love me akin to your cologne

But find me hard to store.

I belong to the nature, 

Formed when beautiful raindrops

Hit the muddy floor. 

Alas, I am unavailable on your arid lands

That you’ve so deftly created, uprooting 

The living trees.

I emanate from the wet ground 

After the very first rain shower,

Indicating through my journey

Oh! Here comes that precious hour.

Hail the rain, hail the rain!