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Introspection Rain Poems | Introspection Poems About Rain

These Introspection Rain poems are examples of Introspection poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Introspection Rain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Light Poetry | |

The Sands of Love

Two statues of stone
On pedestals in the park
One male
One female
White objects of a perfections beauty
Yet they stood erect and alone
When the rain fell
This was their tears
The stared at each other with longing
The trees grew tall
Season by season the flowers bloomed
Two statues standing erect in the prison of life's hold

A poet walked in the park
Glancing at lovers, kisses at dusk
He stared at the statues above his head
He knew, with dread, the loneliness of stone maidens
He waited for the park to become enclosed in the twilight
With toil and sweat he did succeed on his lark
Pushing the statues close rather than apart
As one statue danced and the other one sang
They kissed the sweetness of night and felt the tears of joy
All because a poet
Wished them a lovers embrace
He knew them like they were his children
For here he was as well
A statue
In love

Copyright © arthur vaso

Details | Ballade | |

I love rain

I love rain

It's a month now into spring
And still the rain pours down
Hey, is it ever going to end
There's many here that frown
They want the sunny weather
That will come soon enought
But right now, I'm enjoying it
Rain, I love the stuff.

Next week we're off on holiday
Now it really does rain there
And I'll love very bit of it
As it soaks up everywhere
To hear it's rhythm on the roof
It makes me feel so grand
Though many think that I am strange
They just don't understand

We don't get much rain in WA
So when it comes,  for me
It makes me so excited
I guess it's how i be
So keep that rain a coming down
Let me feel it's soft, wet touch
I don't know what is wrong with me
But I love rain so much.

23 September 2013 @ 0624hrs

Copyright © Peter Duggan

Details | Free verse | |

Sterile Rain

 pit      pat

    pitter        patter

 pitter   patter   pitter   patter

a playful LIGHTNESS WEIGHS HEAVY
defiant droplets dance

       w

           e

        a

           v

              i           t

           n           h

            g             e          

                          i   
 
                       r         
                                    
                              
                         w
      
                             a   

                           y
                                                        
down the outside of the window … pain 
a heart FILLED WITH EMPTINESS
FRAZZLED AND RAW 
bright sunshine is too brash

yet raindrops ... 

so reminiscent of a sound
~l~o~n~g~i~n~g~
to be heard on the
(inside)

Copyright © Sharon Tideswell

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Seasons and Imaginations


Wind so cold.
Blowing.
Fondles my face.
Tickling.
The tears from heaven.
Pouring. 
Tapping. 
Dancing.
Unrelenting.
I wonder if i wish
    to stop them
From numbness,
    to waking,
          then sensing.

The little voice in me says,
Wait, don't go.
Stay a little longer. I plead.
Sing for me today, rain.
With the gliding rhythm on my piano,
                                                  I'll play.
Chilly Wind, caress my bare skin 
     with the pure coldness that you bring.
Unusual,
     like it's my first time in the snow.
Somehow, 
     the fire tree never fades in the picture.
The yellow sunkissed leaves, too.
What is it about Summer and Fall
    that I can't forget?
Memories. Sweet imaginations.

The chilly rain. The misty wind.
You are here. 
Freeze me with the sharp coldness you give.
Calm me. Maybe, comfort me.
And, if you leave
Will you visit me when summertime comes?
Before it gets too late
   And again I fold.


Copyright © Wendy Meyer

Details | Sonnet | |

The Rain

Comes and it goes, sometimes more than other
times when you don’t want it to be there for you 
and it seems you‘re never destined to cover
the possessions you don’t need to but you go through

so much pain just to remain innately insane. 
Today I thought I saw the zenith of my dreams,
foolish me, as if the blind man can attain
visions of evaporated rain shaped like raceme 

still stained on my window left from morning’s tears.
Life hangs heavy on this half-lit horizon just beyond
the glass separating me from all that I’ve feared;
to turn all those small puddles into big ponds

containing something uncontaminated with doubt,
maybe those coming clouds can end this drought?

Copyright © Mike Butler

Details | Rhyme | |

Suzie Haus

I had a horse named Suzie Haus when I was twenty-one.
I had wanted her since I was seven, the waiting was finally done.
She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, in the World up to that day.
And forever in my memory her beauty will continue to stay.
A painted mare with a black mane and tail, then brown over white.
She became the best friend I’d ever have, you might say we were tight.
I fed her every morning, as I talked to her as I cleaned out her stall.
Then every night I did the same, plus cleaned four hooves all.
I brushed her to a shine, I was so proud of her each day.
Then with a saddle, reins, and me…we were on our way.
The stable was near a river, on top a great big bluff.
A dirt road shadowed with trees allowed us to strut our stuff.
As we danced down the road, the lightening bugs rejoiced.
And gentle breezes touched us, giving the leaves their voice.
Then peace would settle round us, as off to trails we would sashay.
This was the stuff that dreams were made of, and I had it every day.
Birds could be heard throughout the woods, the serenade complete.
I saw the river far below, and the sky with clouds of fluff so sweet.
Sometimes we were with others, but most often we were alone.
But it didn’t really matter, for we always knew the way home.
As we turned to go down the bluff, the river urged us to come below.
Deer danced on the land beneath, in the fields a buck and does.
The gentle angle to the floor below, allowed us to mingle in.
They let us close within a few feet, they thought Suzie was a friend.
At the river the blue sky with a reddish sunset had lite everything aglow.
Soon river barges came floating by, and it was quite a show.
Fishermen sat there minding their peace, until the moon began to glow.
The moon twinkling on the river below, was always beautiful and clear.
We’d talk a while, and breathe so deep, the air had a different flavor here.
Once I met a young man looking for inspiration to write a song.
At that time it began to rain so I helped him quickly get where he belonged.
He thanked me profusely, as he made it to his car.
I had helped him save his love, a very beloved old guitar.
From inside his car he played a song he’d written, while he had been there.
I sat upon Suzie beneath a canopy of trees, that sheltered me, I swear. 
Finally the rain and song were done, my serenade complete.
Then I rode off back to home, later achieving more memories and gentle treats.

Copyright © Carol Eastman

Details | Quatrain | |

Oh Gentle Rain

Oh gentle rain
come to me now
please wash this pain from me
in lifes unkindness I'm immersed
and need to be set free

Oh gentle breeze
please breathe new life
into this dying soul
from my travels I am weary
refresh and make me whole

Oh flowers sweet
let me hide
among your beauty fair
touch me with your loveliness
and leave your beauty there

Oh come to me
in kindness please
with your gentle ways
the world it has inflicted me
and darkened all my days

Oh come to me
and touch my heart
please change this dark to light
take away the ugliness
that turned my day to night

Copyright © Robin L. Gass

Details | Rhyme | |

Sorrow of rain

the rain is my motivaton to cry the night away
it is the inspiration for a solitary serenade  

it echoes through the mausoleum of memories in my mind 
and it washes away the pain with the help of father time

the rain reunites the senses and induces tranquility within 
it also intensifies emotions like the ocean against the wind

it offers harmony to humanity  and it calms the savage beast 
it cleanses soul, self and spirit to say the very least 

it renders a mirror into your soul that magnifies your ways 
like the puddle from the rain reflecting the image it displays 

happiness is to day like rain is to tomorrow 
how can we ever know happiness if we never known the sorrow?

Copyright © John Castro

Details | Free verse | |

Winter rain

Have you ever taken the  time to watch rain  fall in winter? 
See the beautiful symmetry of it; listen to the gentle splash?
    Watch the lacy curtain of moisture against the background of winter 
darkened trees.
 Drops, like shiny gems, are clinging to graceful branches. 
Others, growing in size until they are too heavy to hold on any longer, run down my 
windshield; their path erratic and wiggly. 
   There is so much beauty in Nature, even on the grayest day. 
It is in the peaceful pitter-patter of the descending rain. 
In the gentle ripple that appears as it enters a puddle.
 And in the heavy, leaden and mighty clouds that travel our wonderful world.

Copyright © Bridget Aubrey

Details | Rhyme | |

Washed Away Hillslope

Here on a washed away hillslope
Water brought an acorn to grope
A little clay of Georgia red
Put down a tap root and make its bed
Took years to grow in this poor soil'
But it sustained on water___toil

Soil gave what nourishment she could
But help from rain that understood
Stony soil and hard rocks below
Was hurtful when Oak tried to grow
The soil strained to give very best
Oak was draining the soul of rest

This meager soil will starve the Oak
No!  This Mighty Oak only grows

Had that acorn fallen on boulder
Would have sent strong root __grown taller

This Oak became a Kingly Tree
Soil is glad to have been drained free___
Of nourishment that nurtured it
Now the rain and sun supplies pith
For soil to be greatly replenished
So Oak but prospers___soil finished

(Idea came after reading Edna St. Vincent Millay..)

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Free verse | |

Converging Daydreams

The laughter of a thousand years,
The tears of a thousand waterfalls,
Converge and reflect,
Rainbows of seven colors,
Raining on a misty morning,
only puddles in the street,
You sit by a warm fire,
Guessing when the rain will stop,
Building daydreams as you look outside,
Everything will bloom soon,
Violets will grow,
Catching butterflies,
Watching them fly away,
Swimming in cool blue streams,
Feeling the suns' warmth,
The daydreams of a thousand years,
Combined in one as I look outside,
The rain drawing out my soul,
Until I feel empty watching you,
You seem far away,
A blank yet peaceful face,
The rainbow emerges,
Far beyond our full sight,
The rain stops,
You still sit,
Beside a warm fire,
Reflecting on daydreams,
Past.

Copyright © Lisa Baily

Details | Rhyme | |

A Little Rain

Daddy, why did it have to rain today
I wanted to go out and play
Why don't the sun always shine
Then everything would be always fine

Son, your question really isn't that hard
Come take a look in our back yard
Do you see the tulips in a row
Without the rain they wouldn't grow

Now look at those vines, they climbed so high
If it didn't rain, then they would die
And the grass in the yard paints a pretty scene
A little rain will keep it green

Sometimes in life we stumble and fall
We try to understand the meaning of it all
We wonder where did the sunshine go
God sends a little rain to help us grow

I love you son and I want you to know
My prayers for you as you grow
That you experience it all, more pleasure than pain
That you live in the sunshine and grow with the rain.

Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr.

Details | Free verse | |

Rain Whispers

   Rain Whispers

Tender and fragrant
the tiny drops of rain feel feather soft
as they sprinkle my upturned face
the roar of the tide, somehow dimmed
as the rain on the beach whispers

Walking through the mists of an early morning fog
delicate wisps of icy tendrils lace between my ankles
the sand gives way to my footsteps
the ocean washes them away
all thoughts wash out to sea
feeling small, peaceful...free

tender and fragrant
the tiny drops feel feather soft
as they sprinkle my upturned face...
and the rain.....whispers

Copyright © Trudy Diane Rider

Details | Free verse | |

Rain

If only we could do it all again,...

       Drive down Highway 1,
                                on that day in the rain...

    Stop and have lunch at the small cafe,...
           shake off our wet jackets, eat our chowder,
                                                           warm ourselves....

    Stare out the foggy windows,...
             watching the tourists running for shelter,....
  
   I would smile more, 
       not complain that our day had been spoiled by the rain....

             Instead, I would rejoice, and be glad
                   to have spent such a fine day with you

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | I do not know? | |

Pinochle in the Rain

I love the rain,
On some deep unconscious plain.
It seems to seep in and soothe
The pain of an overtired brain.
That never rests,
Because of the stress,
Brought about by bad choices.
And sometimes the voices
That never seem to leave me alone,
Behind the eyes they plot
And manage to accomplish
What they desire to dethrone.
The King of Hearts is now a Jack,
Using Diamonds to fill the void left by his Queen.
Using a Spade shovel, she buries their past,
And some of her skeletons too.
I mean, she wants to start fresh, and squeaky clean.
I love the rain. It brings forth new life, 
An attitude changed; serenity, acceptance, courage to maintain.
To learn, to grow, to believe.
The hope of a new relationship,
And a budding love with my seed.
I need him, he needs me and we need him on high.
I must not waste anymore, the time's getting slim.
I love the rain.
Because it opens my mind,
My thoughts are simple, and the truth I seek, I find.
When there's a storm,
There's calm before and after,
But the journey through
I s, to me, what really matters.
I love the rain.

Copyright © Mark DeLano

Details | Narrative | |

A Wandering Soul

My soul wanders into places unknown,
Barren, what happened to the seeds sown?
Plenty of sunlight and rain, still nothing grows.
Leaves start to fall as a cold wind blows.

I wander within, reality and dreams,
Reality bites, or so it seems.
Realizations of things yet to come,
Dreams are the source, where they are from.

The world is in color, I remain black and white.
First comes the sun and then there is night.
Circles of life my soul wanders through,
Colors paint pictures of all that I view.

It’s been raining for days, it won’t relent.
I see time pass and then wonder where it went.
I see a reflection in a puddle on the ground,
Perhaps my mind is too tightly wound.

I try to fix a hole where the rain gets in,
But the rain has soaked in below my skin.
I reflect upon times spent in the sun,
But I’ve hopped within, the web I spun.

Still my soul wanders, looking for a place.
It all disappears, without leaving a trace.
My mind grows numb from all these thoughts,
While my soul searches, it is tied up in knots.

Copyright © Mark Russell

Details | Villanelle | |

Then Comes the Rain

The darkness falls, then comes the rain.
Hell's demons call again, my name.
My soul cries for surcease of pain.

High hopes they had for me, in vain.
Their little girl is not the same.
The darkness falls, then comes the rain.

This inmost hurt, I can't explain:
A hollow shell of me, became.
My soul cries for surcease of pain.

A thunderbolt you can't contain;
My madness only to inflame.
The darkness falls, then comes the rain.

Despair within me sits ingrained.
By giving in, I feel the shame.
My soul cries for surcease of pain.

Intensity begins to wane.
This life, I fear I can't reclaim.
The darkness falls, then comes the rain.
My soul cries for surcease of pain.

Copyright © Darkland Poetry

Details | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.

Copyright © Onis Sampson

Details | Imagism | |

A Farmer's Eyes and a Sailor's Shadow

A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast

Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds

Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are

Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs

Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens

#Poem by +Gokul Alex

Copyright © Gokul Alex

Details | Free verse | |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home

Copyright © Jay Loveless

Details | Free verse | |

Rain

 Rain ©  

I walk on slick shine streets 
in the night with my lover. 

Freshly out of bed and ravenous 
for other food, he pauses and 
licks the tears and rain drops 
from my face. 

Rain in its many moods 
quickens to sweep the earth and 
skies clean. 

Settles on the skin like a damp 
kiss. Cold, warm, sweet, clean, 
sharp, rain. 


 
Is designer bottled water 
merely rain drops from afar? 


The dog romps through the rain, 
in his perfect raincoat, oblivious 
to the wet. 
Blinking owlishly when a drop 
should fall into his eye. 

 
Mysterious primates of the forest 
sit forlornly, beneath the 
umbrella leaf. 
Forever patient as the skies 
rupture with a torrential deluge. 
Human-tender eyes reflect their 
disgust and sadness at the wet, 
messy coats they must wear. 


The equine turn their haunches 
to the storm to show their scorn 
for nature’s tantrum. 


Cats run for cover, sit 
majestically removing the 
wet rain from their person with a 
wet tongue. 


 
Wild fowl dance across the circle 
patterns of the pond’s face, 
beating their wings and singing. 

They frolic and dive celebrating 
the sublime circumstance of 
being wet. 


Man spends energy and money 
to keep himself dry and safe 
from the rain, darting from 
doorway to doorway. 

What does he fear? He won’t 
melt if he gets soaked, he won’t 
become ill or grow fins, and he 
just might get clean. 


Snow is rain in its wedding attire; 
no two brides alike. 

 
The rain drop falls into a rivulet 
of other rain drops atop the 
mountain.
The rivulet runs into the creek, 
the creek into a stream. 
The stream rushes to the river 
and the river falls into the sea. 


The rain drops turn to salty tears 
as the journey ends. 


It is said that chickens, if left out 
in the rain, will lift their heads up 
to the sky and watch the rain 
until they drown. 

Trisha Sugarek
Butterflies and Bullets


 

Copyright © Trisha Sugarek

Details | Blank verse | |

Morning Rain

Tears from the sky.
Pools reflection,
Looking at me.

Copyright © Mark Leeper

Details | Rhyme | |

Rain

I love to feel the
wind on my face;
Bask in the warmth
of the sun’s embrace.
As light misty rain
touches my skin
In divine delight 
I go within. . .
The wind becomes 
an internal force.
The sun enters my heart
on its course,
But rain endeavors
to keep me whole
And helps to sustain
my very soul.

© 2011 Connie Marcum Wong

This poem was written to be metaphoric with the 
wind representing internal conflict, the sun having a 
calming effect and the rain quenching spiritual thirst. 
I am sure no one will get it, so I thought I would explain.

I have had recent eye surgery so my time on the computer is limited.

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Epigram | |

A DROP OF RAIN



A drop of rain each soul is,
Born out of the vapors of the spiritual ocean,
Filled with divine wisdom and
Destined 
To execute the celestial will 
Of 
Watering materiality’s arid planes of ignorance
Before 
Its glorious eternal source to rejoin!  


© Demetrios Trifiatis
25 FEBRUARY 2014


Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis

Details | Lyric | |

Morning Mist and Summer Rain

Morning Mist and Summer Rain Far away from the noise of the city I walked in the quiet of a country lane nothing to distract me this day but the morning mist, turning into a summer rain. I was born to be free from my troubles born to smell the freshness of the day nothing to accompany me on my trip but the morning mist, turning into a summer rain. There are times when I must be free, away from the cares and worries of this life, when I can walk alone in this world with nothing but the morning mist, turning into a summer rain. Sometimes in all my wanderings I talk with my God up above, it's amazing what I will hear, when walking in a morning mist, turning into a summer rain. A symphony of sounds are present from the creatures who live nearby, from the call of a coyote drifting on the wind to the birds in their nests where they lie, all add to the beauty of this day, when filled with nothing but a morning mist....turning into a summer rain. My love for life is all around given by a God who cares from up above, it is seen most clearly on a country lane when walking in a morning mist, turning into a summer rain.

Copyright © Richard Moriarty

Details | Personification | |

Birth of a Poet

The animals know better than us. The rain has never poured so loudly in a key so soft.
To the front, the sailing of city buses and mini vans cruising across in this weather makes the water underneath their tires sound like the street is crying out for 5 more minutes of sleep. Up above, the trees are protecting a nest of baby blue jays before they get washed away by the silence of their mother not being there. But with sky blue young spirits, and small empty stomachs, they keep hope alive in the fact that even children know storms and struggles don’t last forever.
Below the trees, nature has found a name to call it’s own. From the hole dug by the little boy next door, a family of three foxes have named human nature sanctuary, and burrowed their problems into the sediment to rest for a while.
To the side of the hole, a flock of ducks are swimming in the water with eyes open wide enough to where you can see their loyalty to love one another rushes wild.
To the right of the pond, caged up in a man made blanket, and lost in his own mind, is the boy. From what he remembers, last night was like a train accident; A head on collision of two people he could’ve sworn he saw holding hands just the other day. He hears the sound of plates shattering in C-minor, and the chorus of words that his parents screamed in F-sharp, so he imprisoned himself in his own bed sheets, accompanied by the courageous corduroy bear who he swears keeps hearing whisper “everything will be okay.”
It’s raining outside, and the crescendos of screams have been silenced by it’s peaceful security.
The boy, sleeps soundly now. The rain has protected his ears, and guarded his heart from being washed away by all of his nightmares.
He doesn’t care whether he wakes up. The baby blue jay, the resourceful fox and the brave little duck are all he wants to keep dreaming about.
Maybe he’ll run away into the rain? Or maybe into the arms if his mother?, whom he prays he can still recognize. To the left of his bed, he picked up the blank page of his coloring book and a crayon, and became a life long poet in that moment that morning. Taking a deep breath in, and giving a soft breath out, his first sentence was
“The animals know better than us.”

Copyright © Spenser Jones

Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.




Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses

Details | Haiku | |

Rain

colored circles

reflections of earth and sky

small pooling mirrors 


(c) Copyright Christine A Kysely All Rights Reserved
(October 24, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

Copyright © christine a kysely

Details | I do not know? | |

Senorita Sorrow ( Spanish Rain )

Any teardrops that I can borrow?
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
 
Senorita Sorrow
Can you run away with me tomorrow?
We can chase our dreams around
And make love
And start wars
In those Spanish eyes of yours
In those big brown Spanish eyes
of yours
 
You have never lived
It's very hard to explain
I got lost in Senorita Sorrow
somewhere in San Sebastian, Spain
somewhere in her Spanish eyes
somewhere in the Spanish rain
 
We had the time of our lives
But she cried there on the train
She couldn't hold back the pain
She knew there was no tomorrow
My Sweet Senorita Sorrow
As she stepped out into the 
Mid-September Spanish Rain




Copyright © ron ryan

Details | Haiku | |

Rain Obscures Distance

rain obscures distance

hides beauty that lies ahead

floodwaters leave soon



(June 2nd, 2011 Wausau, Wisconsin USA)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved

Copyright © christine a kysely