Rain

The sun beats down on the hot desert sand As she brushes their silken white mane No fairer mistress lives throughout the land Her beauty as rare as the rain Left behind by a nomadic tribe Scandal surrounding her birth Arabian white horses always by her side Her only family to speak of on earth A virgin so pure and spirit so free No one has spoken her name She is as refreshing as drops from the sky They simply refer to her as the Rain You can see her riding an Arabian white steed Anytime night or day No other horseman can match her speed Is what the locals say Foreigners think when they speak of the Rain They are talking of drops from above But it’s this girl they worship who has no name That they shower with all of their love The sun beats down on the hot desert sand As she brushes their silken white mane No fairer mistress lives throughout the land Her beauty as rare as the rain By, Joe Flach For Constance's Contest, "Rain, The Story"