Listen to poem:
Rain
There’s something ornately comforting, in a downpour of a day’s healthy rain
So replenishing, cleansing, as renewing, the ultimate giver to feed life’s grain
As standing undercover feeling the smaller flecks of the rain against your skin
With the thrashing of rain against the window panes, creating a deafening din
Each drop, creating rivulets that chase each other down, onto the window sill
There pausing, but, for a second in pools before they take their final overspill
God’s creatures sensing mother’s nature ungodly call find refuge in their lairs
Others finding cover from the torrents of rain that caught them, so unawares
Birds tuck their heads away, wait on the downpour of rain to end, its final fall
In this time just birds of silence, you seldom hear them making their bird call
Within the marble halls of mansions, walls glisten with dancing shades of hue
Gun dogs put out of work lie waiting for their prize, there’s nowt’ they can do
Children sit upon window seats watching as the rivulets fall upon each a wish
Their little fingers pressed upon the window pane giving each rivulet a squish
But; nothing can prevent nature’s raindrops falling, so they just watch in awe
Cats on their hind legs each trying to catch the rivulets drops with their paws
There is more than a sense of security, in this day’s healthy downpour of rain
Mother makes hot cups of juice, just in case, from a cold, we all need to feign
Grandfather sits very staunchly before the fire in his armchair made so grand
A tot of whiskey just for good measure, for medical purposes you understand
While dear Grandma is knitting away, totally in tune to the rhythm of the rain
In the hallway standing there idle rests father’s ebony and ivory walking cane
Who has now took himself into his study, sits to reminisce and to have a cigar
It saved just for such a day resting in its lacquered pigmented box of cinnabar
Cooks busy themselves in the kitchen making all the family their evening meal
Steam rising from the cooking onto the windows panes, does the rain conceal
Until the steam itself creates rivulets of their own, and the outside is revealed
In doing so, makes the clarity of the day’s rain even more so magically surreal
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