The Scent Of Summer Rain

An artist paints nomadic drifting clouds, That move with grace in chiffon shrouds, Of summers scorched an earthly brown, Man prays God's teardrops tumble down. A preacher prays a nodding skywards glance, Summer rains offer his sermon, another chance, To remove the grey clouds that man has made, To feel like a child loved, when he first played. A child of love paints through tinted eyes, Of matchstick faces and the bluest skies, To laugh in God's playground all summer long, Whether sunshine or rain, life can do no wrong. The scent of summer rain no artist can paint, It lives in our senses and is forever engrained, Our lives like winter showers will untimely fall, But to live our best lives we must always stand tall.