Furious with Zeus, a vengeful Hera searched the world
Until she discovered the most amazing young girl
~~A Native American with hair dark as the night
Atop a white steed she traversed mountains snowy white~~
“Let there be stardust,” the Goddess proclaimed with force
And the woman was stunned, soaring on a flying horse
“Let there be rain,” Hera chose to give her power
The girl rode above clouds, below her rain did shower
Forever Rain on Stardust would travel through the sky
With the powers of a Goddess as she rode on high
To shower blessings of rain on villages so dry
Rain sees the past and future, though she does not know why
The outcome surely not as Hera had intended
Zeus became enamored of Rain’s presence so splendid
He kissed the sky beneath her with bright rainbow arches
Today you still see them wherever Stardust marches
A Goddess rides now, but sweet Rain was once just human
And she remains bewildered by her own acumen
Olympian rulers outdone by their creation
For Rain and Stardust yet win human acclamation
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~~%%%%%%' : \O\
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~~%%%%%%' .'`-._ `.
~~%%%%%%%' : `-. (,;
~~%%%%%%' : `._\_.'
*By Carolyn Devonshire
Entry for “Rain, the Story”
A contest sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
THE UNIVERSE OF YOU
I have never seen a flower blush when I took it's hue
and held it there a prisoner captive to my view.
I have always heard the song that's in the autumn breeze
playing taps in harmony with the forest leaves.
I love the smell of rain that brings the springtime into bud
and swells my love of nature into a teeming flood.
I celebrate the cycle of the daytime into night
and find an equal blessing in the shadow and the light.
I've always felt affinity for all created things
and surrender to the pleasure that their beauty brings.
And though I could spent a lifetime sailing drops of dew
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've often sat myself by gentle mountain streams
and overflowed the dams that were holding back my dreams.
I've breathed the scented forest on the mountainside
and washed away my sorrows in an evening ocean tide.
I've laid down in a meadow and debated with the moon
and spent some quiet moments on the surface of Neptune.
I got married to a zodiac with one of Saturn's rings
then spied a super nova and went on a cosmic fling.
I've run away to nebulae in galaxy brochures
and bathed in scenes of wonders on distant planet shores.
Every cosmos in creation could parade before my view
but I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've never seen a tree once withdraw it's shade
and deny a creature the comfort of its aid.
I've never seen any anger in the sun at noon
when it burns relentlessly on the desert dune.
At sunrise I take an oath to live with all my might
and reinforce my gratitude each and every night.
I could spend some hours riding on a crystal flake
drifting wildly in a gale mindless of my fate.
Many times I've been through trials or wind and rain and snow
then sentenced to the splendors that the seasons show.
And though I've searched throughout creation, I must say this is true
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
A solar wind caresses the mighty oceans blue,
Creates the waves, stirs the hearts of the true.
The spirit leaves the sea and floats on high,
To gather the dreams that make poets sigh.
When they reach saturation they at last take flight,
In search of lovers, adrift in the darkest of night.
Each dream a raindrop that freefalls though time,
Each drop a perfection, each dream sublime,
A prism to the soul or perhaps an angel’s tear,
As it floats and drifts, through the atmosphere.
Its colour and shape so clear and fragile,
Yet set on its course despite all the toil.
To replenish the land, refresh us each and all,
Oblivious to their beauty as they tumble freefall.
Each bead of perfection races to shatter,
On the land, its people and all that matter.
To wash the dry soil, to cleanse the city,
To grow the crops, dull the gritty.
Yet fail to heed its might and splendour,
When it can destroy, kill and can render.
There’s sorrow in those raindrops, so to glee,
It’s visible in its beauty-beast so plain to see.
As it gives life as it dies, a true resurrection,
The raindrop can certainly be a cruel perfection.
Today I wondered about the rain....
....I wanted it to rain again
The beauty of a chopped up sea
Cobalt turquoise harmony
Warm winds blow indigo Cirrus
Thunder crashes intensely furious
Golden skies mixed crimson setting
West I admire rain-clouds shedding
I miss that smell of rain and sea
With loud cracks of lightening~
Gems rolling against the sand
Treasures kept ....cupped in a hand
Walking along a wondrous fate
Losing my spirit ....I learned to hate
Focusd on a thought or a specific date
I felt sad inside...to have lost my mate
Finding myself in a storm cloud made
An impermeable will and internal shade
I've finally met the marvelous Sea
Stepping along the beach with me....
Had I stayed in my own little storm
Completely compelled to die or conform
I would not have come to realize...
...cannot touch today's skies
By Jane Bowen
"I like it when it rains hard.
It sounds like white noise everywhere,
which is like silence but not empty."
And so it pours again
Tonight. Not champagne—
Just a cup of hot coffee
To drown what we used to be.
To the melody of white I weep,
Lying here so close to sleep;
With wet wings that can't fly,
Soaked clothes that won’t dry;
Rain that won’t cease:
Pain that won’t ease.
The rains weave a silent story...
Uncertain whether of glee or misery...
The twilight is blurred by the relentless droppings...
That say a thousand ethereal things...!
Whether it is the revelry of rain...
Or the depression of lyrical pain...
The night emerges with a doubtful moon...
Unsure of the mood of the monsoon...!
On the ground,the leaves are spread...
Like a thousand soldiers dead...
And the street-light,too, wet appears...
It is hard to say if these are real tears...
The city still needs time to recover...
From the trauma of the testing summer...
But the monsoons have come like good news...
However the latent motives still confuse...
The streets are lonely like the skies...
Like the loneliness of deserted eyes...
Drop by drop,the rains keep falling...
As though the earth is silently calling...!
Amid the solitude and wet aura...
One could see the helplessness of flora...
The truth is still,largely,unclear...
But the departure of summer is something to cheer...
The monsoon is really unpredictable...
Whether it is a dream or a trouble...
Whether it is a break to monotony...
Or the messenger of some melancholy....!
Again a small poem guys dedicated to my Darling hubby..
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare
Loving You is Blissful - My Darling Hubby
Twilighting glow of the sky..
Wanna fly so high..
Sparkling amidst the million stars..
chosen the crazy pal and so life is excellently par..
As like the blossom were kissed by soft rain..
Your arrival in life diminished all my pains..
God has entwined me..with my emarald diamonite gem..
Enlightening new vistas in life as like your next aim..
At an astounding pace time flew..
But When i didn‘t see you..I feel like..Life is been dew..
Your divine presence in life rejuvenates me..
Every tick of my heartbeat resonating wit your‘s or whatever it will be..
Your innumerable naughtiness made me silly..
But yep, your beautifying nature had an fragrance in life like lilly..
As like snow crested the nestled mountains..
You cuddled my persona..like a sip of fountains..
Being With you, Life is euphorically elated..
Full of high spirit and delighted..
Thanks for being accompanying me my theist..
Your admirer with lots n lots of Love:
How easy rain fall by its own weight
On a landscape that needs it.
It is October and the sky is lead grey
For too long it was uniformly blue.
I walk to the shops and enjoy the sound
Rain makes falling softly on my umbrella.
A forgotten lullaby remembered a song
Without words just a hush of tenderness.
A drought has been declared, no hose pipes can we use
There has been such light rain for two years, but I think it is a ruse.
The day the drought was declared the heavens opened up
They have not stopped precipitating; one certainly dare not look up.
The water flows as free as lager at a barbecue
Constantly pouring, persisting it down, and the same problems ensue.
We are drenched in all sorts as drains do rise, and rivers flood their banks
But the drought warnings still apply there are supposed empty water tanks.
The spring rain is falling not like tears on babies’ cheeks
But pouring and pouring constantly, and has been now for weeks.
Still the drought does linger but I think I know the ruse
They will put the bloody price up, and watch us blow a fuse.
A summer rain arrived, unwelcome, cold and unannounced,
Spattering softly then louder, as if a hidden tiger had pounced.
I stared out of the window pane as the world turned silver-black,
With distorted reflections of lights from the thunder flash and crack.
A face stares back from the window, captured in each rain bead,
Like a fragmented, displaced reflection of a soul clinging to a need.
They wriggle down the window pane, as if searching for a course,
Like a hidden memory surfacing, loosening a mighty natural force.
Each bead a broken part of me or perhaps a fragment of my soul,
As it clings to the window pane, fighting and crashing as they roll.
Some they merge together as lover warriors against the world,
But they tumble fall to nothing as more raindrops are unfurled.
They softly flow away together, their identities lost from view,
Leaving the world so refreshed, fragrant as early morning dew
An order and a reason, portrayed so assured and so intense,
Rests behind its demeanour, its nature, is not an offence.
What of the different parts of me that are lost upon the pane?
They are washed away to nothingness and purified by the rain!
The light of the sun
Falls behind the clouds
And rain falls down
From high in the sky.
As every drop hits the ground,
The sound gets louder,
And now, the rain turns to showers.
Hour by hour,
Rain falls down,
Just slapping the ground.
The rain came down as I sat by the window..
I pondered what lifes and ups and downs have shown..
While at the piano the keys didn't feel or sound right..
The mixture of colors on my paint brush had no light..
I then searched for a way to express without sound..
Then the door opened to Poetry and the words I've found..
I feel this time I have found my way through a tangled dark forest..
Now by the same window I write of rain and love as I just express..
Saturday, rain or sun, garage sale,
moving from my old heritage apartment.
Years of collecting, some must go,
things that have given me such contentment.
Two china cabinets, one from Mom,
one from Grandma, remembering with a smile.
Perhaps, I can somehow fit them in,
my lofty new pad, wall to wall china cabinet style.
As I go through my many things and stuff,
I have to laugh and say, "why did I ever get that!"
Clothing gothic, retro and vintage lace,
shoes, handbags, jewelery and even some hats.
A broken and battered old filing cabinet,
it holds years of poetry written from my heart.
Need to find a new filing system for sure,
should I sell some." Oh no we can never be apart!"
Vases and vases, colourful and quite lovely,
dusty on my window sill for years, quite useless.
Porcelain dishes from Grandma, quite pretty,
in my cupboards for years, lost in forgetfulness.
Old movies, much watched, VHS outdated,
music and well lets say it, just loads, tons of stuff.
How does one say goodbye? Time to shed the old,
garage sale, Saturday, rain or sun." This will be rough!"
Written September 8, 2012
For the contest, A Poets Garage Sale
Sponsored by Skat
Oh the sky is crying such massive tears
But I’m delighted you can hear my cheers
I dash to get my wellie boots and rain mac
Splash in the puddles and soak the pussy cat
Jump up and down in the water without a care
I'm soaking wet down to my underwear
It’s so wonderful to be so carefree …
I’m simply a child at the age of three
Contest: Rainy Days
Sponsor : Leonora Galinta
~awarded 1st place
Luck is not in my dictionary
So, my life, losses only carry
Of course I make a honest try
But, ignores it God in the Sky
When I well prepare for the exam
Fate changes that day's program
In case I buy my favorite fruit
My joy, all tiny worms loot
If I go to the doctor for consultation
He would have gone out of station
When to tell my deep love I at last plan
She becomes the wife of another man
In the terrace when I put the flour
Suddenly comes a heavy downpour
I bought for my relative honey bottle
With diabetes he is making a battle
I gave generously bread to a beggar
He took it not due to severe sugar
Next day he to me sadly lamented
For his unhappiness, I repented
Superb English poems I finely write
My mother has no English might
When I decide to see today TV
Work in the office will turn heavy
When I aim for promotion in career
Head Office cancels it for that year
When I take the rain coat cautiously
Sun will generate heat mercilessly
In case I take not the rain coat
For severe rain, weather will vote
When I love to become a friend
His hand, none will kindly extend
While hearing a song in the radio
My family will prefer only the video
When I go cheerfully to the theater
Gets then punctured my scooter
God does not like me a bit
He does only the opposite
So I love not to live longer
Then God makes me linger
For five decades this is happening
So my disappointment is deepening.
SEARCH mvvenkataraman IN GOOGLE OR YAHOO
TYPE mvvenkataraman IN URL
THE CLOUDS AND THE SUN
The day arrived on her galloping horse of color gray
The sun hidden behind the clouds wanted to play
They let him from time to time through to have a peep
But never allowed him their fluffy mass ever to reap
Suddenly the angered storm pulled down the blind
Reminding the sun that time has come for good to hide
Then came the thunder and was followed by the rain
Dissipated the clouds, left the sun to shine again!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
02 JUNE 2013
We would get used to the heat
If not for the body-armor.
We could always taste the dust
Which made it seem even warmer.
Ballistic sunglasses blocked the glare,
But didn't keep out the sweat.
The smell of raw sewage and rot
We would never soon forget.
I assumed the ground would be sandy,
But it was really all silt and clay.
There was so much fouled standing water
After their annual rainy season days.
The only time I wasn't over-heating
Was in January's rains in Mosul, Iraq.
After wading through so much filth,
I'm happy to never, ever, ever go back.
The cumulous arrive in train;
with thrusting breath that reeks of rain,
a roiling moody, leaden pall,
to shroud the world in shadow-fall.
Thunder grumbles; muted flashes,
rain with sting and wind with lashes,
a blanket, nebulous, intends,
for blue to meet ignoble ends.
When all seems lost and Sol's retreated,
in evidence he's not defeated;
a shaft of sunlight tells the wary,
the veil's only temporary.
God is blessing me again
with precious little drops of rain.
He’s taken on those watering chores
that had been keeping me outdoors.
Now I have time to take my pen
and ink some poetry again.
I’ll write until the sun comes out
and puts those rain clouds all to rout.
In spring I got a little weary
and grumbled that the days were dreary.
I pleaded for the rain to stop.
A farmer must put in his crop.
The summer brought a bit of drought
and raindrops I have done without.
Until today with welcomed rain
God’s blessing's falling down again.
The rain is all around the place.
Springtime rain falls at a steady pace.
Water is the life-giver of the earth.
A gift to all from heaven.
Forever earth be blessed.
Winter’s steadfast grip has finally let go.
Once again, it’s time for the flowers to grow.
The falling rain is their wake-up call.
In a plethora, see the children fall.
Diminutive raindrops descend from the sky.
Resembling diamonds, all over the earth they lie.
Like little gems of inestimable worth,
see the little shoots surge out of the earth.
It’s a spring shower.
Let’s go out into the rain.
We’ll get soaking wet.
By Robert Pettit for Constance LaFrance’s Nature Four-In-One contest.
A cloud without a sun
So dim, it sets the heart to burn
Across the wild redemption is heard
Awakening the unknown to be bared.
All around the drums of revolution is heard
Flashes and grey smear the end.
The rhythm on a flat, tempo rising in every note
Like a drum on a strut crescendo climaxing as it wrote.
In the greens,
Some total obiesance, others undecided swaying and bowing.
For the crawlers,
Roosting was early, unceremonious, devoid of squacking and flapping.
As the rumbling and tumbling heated
The scurrying and scrambling ended.
Roofs thumping, pallets sated buckets filled
Puddles forming, earth elated streams tilled.
Hello, darling come right in
I want to feel you on skin
Hold me, do not let me go
I hide feelings that you don’t know
Do you miss me, my sweet love?
My little angel from above
I daydream of you repeatedly
But do you ever think of me?
I need to see your lovely face
Your smile that sent me up to space
I crave the sound of your sweet voice
As I remember when you made me rejoice
I’m going crazy day by day
The more that you are far away
I kiss the rain in thought of you
My neighbors think I’m crazy too
All I beg is that you don’t forget
Together until death; Romeo and Juliet
My mind’s shutting down, my heart’s getting cold
There is nothing left to hold
So I kiss the rain to feel your touch
As I remember that sweet rush
Only dark clouds since you have gone
Raindrops falling one by one
I feel them pressing on my lips
I feel them sliding on my hips
And I imagine you right next to me
Here to stay for eternity
Sitting on the couches ;
in the dark shadows.
Listening to the nights electrifying
arc, light up the heavens.
blows through the leaves.
Frogs quiet anticipation;
the impending precpitation.
The inevitable dance
of nature ,that follows.
Veneration is done for anointing.
The earth requires an anointment.
The breeze takes the heat from our faces.
We walk as a caravan that must migrate.
Our faith is with God and our belief is concentrated on a better day.
For there is, hope to embrace and a grandeur spirit to take place.
For the Lord is our shepherd, as natural disaster takes, a mind is phased.
Contemplated is the prophecy of our tragedy.
The scent of water is in the air.
The ground is in a drought.
We are strengthened by God in our will to live.
The rain will fall.
This storm of life will be over and done.
Thus, a new day has come.
PENNED ON JULY 07, 2014!
Today my gift , a rainy day
Gray clouds with breezes play
Melody on the roof I hear
Symphony played this time of year
Cuddle down with a favorite book
This room a warm and cozy nook
Just for today I'll hide away
Letting nature and the raindrops play
Finally the shadows start to creep
And by the rain I'm lulled to sleep……
She stood in the rain there
Keeping dry her black hair
And red lips , full and round
On a windy corner of town.
The rain beaded her plastic sheet
Protecting the cherries from the street.
Fruit filled with sun from less rainy days.
With memories of the sun’s warm ways -
They told a tale of southern climes
And milder winters, warmer times.
Black cherries, red cherries,
Glorious, luscious, shining berries.
She dug her hands into a pile
Of a luscious far-south cherry,
Ripe and red - all the while
Testing the full-round berry,
Feeling for soft form
With probing fingers firm,
Scooping up a large handful,
Feeling its weight with her pull,
And pushing it slowly
And so carefully
Into a thin containing bag,
So that it fitted snug.
Black cherries, ripe but fresh,
With thick juice to spill.
Red ones with strong tang of south
Sun in their soft flesh,
Keeping their liquid, until
It near melted in the mouth.
The fruits of southern ground
Red and black and softly round
Memories of warming sun around
The cherry girl in the rainy town.
Rainy day finally gave way to intermittent sun -
Walked out with camera before rain should return,
And fell in love, mesmerized, helpless, captivated.
Stopped at garden with waist-high iron railings, riveted,
And its flowers stunned me. Never knew you could get
So many blooms into a pocket-handkerchief spacelet.
Hanging baskets overpouring their petunias down
To meet roses climbing tenaciously up the trelliswork brown;
And tubs along the short path, each tub - afire and flaming
With joyful marigolds of yellow and orange - jostling
For space to get fired up and send their glow
Over the path’s six stepping stones, submerged below
Spreading alyssum and spotted lobelia, which crept
Cautiously over the bottom of the railings stepped.
But filling this mini-realm were the marguerites’ charms,
Reaching through their tiny prison’s bars into my arms,
Offering their open hands in supplication, white innocence,
Wide spread, full of generous, pure opulence :
Golden topaz seed-centres glossed with raindrop spot.
Oh I touched them as I might an uncertain cat, careful not
To spill their watery yolks. They ignored the iron bars with ease,
And begged me to pluck them, waving steadily in the breeze,
And invading the footpath outside the garden with their whirl,
Looking me in the face and smiling irresistibly like a pretty girl,
Welcoming, flirting, lovely, brushing my fingertips to invite,
Large,perfect, pristine, fragile, graceful, white.
Took some quick pictures as the rain came suddenly back there,
As it does in every head-over-heels love affaire.
The tin man stood out in the rain and felt each inch of sorrow;
his broken heart beyond repair with no hope for tomorrow.
Now all that's left to him is rust and solitary grief
when his love left for higher ground and stole off like a thief.
Beyond the things he knows as truth are those that make him weep;
a rusted heart and broken spirit are all he's left to keep.
The tin man felt each drop of rain as he whispered good-bye
and from the depths a solitary tear fell from his eye.
sponsored by Rick Parise
Why do the clouds roll by
The very land thats cracked and dry
Why cant God see the need
Nothing can grow not one little seed
Why do the clouds break over flooded earth
Rain and more rain causing death
To humans and animals alike
Doesn't make sense to cause such strife
Weather is a touchy thing
To figure out where the sun should shine
The rain to fall, its uses unfurled
Food to grow to feed the world
Flowers to water to bring a smile
To the old and the infirm,who cant walk awhile
So busy clouds try to fathom out your goal
Rain so important a commodity for all
Why do I make this simple plea
Cos I am sick of the rain falling on me.
2 June 2013
A dark sky, a low growl,
A flash of light, a haunted howl.
A chilling wind, an insidious fear,
From the dark falls heaven's cold tears.
A love sleeping dormant inside,
A heart that waited, a heart that cried.
A blood moon, hidden by the dark,
A fall of life, for a land so stark.
A year without rain, a land cursed,
A spell broken, a quenched thirst.
Ignorant, she walk
As stealth shadows stalk
Pure was her name
Misfortune, her mane
Then out of midnight's light
Comes the wicked of the night
Her desperate struggles
Are flooded with pain
Lost in night rain
The echoes of disdain
Her innocent fears
And unsung tears
Masked in raindrops
Her womanhood scathed
Glowing dreams quenched
As her body lay drenched
Cold, yet hot
Till all hope is lost
Whereas evil cheered
O poor soul, have mercy I pray
Beautiful lights that glare before me,
Magic delights you allow me to see.
Mystical Rain in the sky up above,
Mystical Rain throwing stardust of love.
A surreal sight as I stand and adore,
Leading the way - so that men reach the shore.
Mystical Rain in the air all around,
Mystical Rain making love without sound.
Marvelous specks of desire in my view,
Lightly you peck at my face like the dew.
Mystical Rain; blue metallic and green.
Mystical Rain; play your tune quite serene.
A show so alive as you dart through the sky,
Helping planes through the mist, where pilots do fly.
Mystical Rain; shine your light in my path.
Mystical Rain warm my heart; make me laugh.
Editing by Lindsay Laurie
Jousting and parrying the parasol defend the brolly Etiquette has lost the brawl on the way to the trolley To raise it a little higher a common courtesy Today they are wielding them with no mercy Wetter now two men stuck in the door with their shields It is not the days of chivalry I’m glad they're not fighting for real It’s like they are standing under a tree after the rain has quit In the age of selfie’s they have forgotten some etiquette
One of those sultry days
Rumble in the far off haze,
Trouble in the sky
Mountainous clouds piled high -
Lightning darts spike down
Here and there in the town.
Gonna rain without stopping
My drying sheet'll be sopping.
Will I dash out and grab it ?
Leap out like a rabbit?
Pulse is racing across the yard
Yank the sheet down extra hard
Turn for home, sheet a-flapping
Like a clipper with braces snapping.
In the door and now the start
Of lightning bolts stopping heart.
Don't move an inch
Maybe they won’t see me flinch.
Hide under stairs, fold the sheet,
Creep out when it’s all complete.
Kitchen coffee soothes my feathers,
Storm abates - better weather.
IF ONLY RAIN WOULD
I always desired Rain - but this girl needed freedom light as air.
I heard her tapping on my bedroom window there.
She, she teased my neck with cool fingers in the dark;
She remained; her kiss mark, lip mark, love mark.
If Rain came to me from heaven’s blue lake
She’d swiftly swoop and slake
My desert hot and dry with her founts,
Riding her mighty floating white mounts,
Filling me with her life-giving moisture.
But she wouldn’t let me her cloister.
My desiccated seared nothingness,
My empty wearied hopelessness,
My lifeless parched skeleton-seeds lying here would
Be fleshed to flower in her flowing flood -
My barren world would be petal-carpeted.
But all my blooms would unrequited
Be without her liquid passion -
In a Rain-less world of aborted proliferation.
If my beautiful Rain would make love
As if the heavens had trumpeted it above,
Drawing from me the essence waiting to germinate
In her fertile nectar in spate,
Then my grounded seeds would burst with rapture
As Rain stooped my heart to capture.
Written by Sydney Peck
for the competition “RAIN - THE STORY”
( A Rambling Poet)
How far away is nowhere?
Could I get there from here?
Would it take a long time? Or none at all,
for me to get there?
I'd like to go there sometime,
and disappear away.
To have that nothingness envelop me,
and forget about this pain.
This illness overtakes me sometimes
and covers up my life.
Steals my joy and happiness,
robs away my rights.
I have to remind myself daily,
my soul has been set free.
Because my body might have lupus,
but lupus does not have me!
Grumpy grey rain clouds, why must you bother me so?
You seem to follow me most everywhere I go?
To the beach for some sun, towel and lotion in hand,
And here you come casting your shade upon the sand.
In the park for a ride on a warm afternoon,
Next thing I know, drip, drip, drop from your sneaky gloom.
Though you were not invited to my birthday,
You showed up for cake and rained for most of the day.
Silly old grey rain clouds, why must you pester me?
Have you mistaken me for a flower, fruit or tree?
Why can't you stay fluffy, happy, high and white,
In the shape of turtles, ducks and puppies in flight?
No, you choose to be dark, dreary, grumpy and grey,
And to follow me around no matter what I say.