Rainy Days
She drizzles on mounds of brick stones
Her tresses pouring like silvery mist
Robed in a veil of pewter and crystals,
Fragrant breath spreading a tune
Across the glossed moorland lushly blazed;
Till she refreshes the prism of grass
Enchanting the eyes from sterling clouds
While barefoot kids fondle her taps.
In October's daze, winds start to prance
As ripened boughs pop confetti of dew...
With her voice waltzing across the sky,
She delivers a lining in float of mist
To gather hues from a wondrous ride
As puddles beneath trickles a glow…
Oh, the youngest daughter of Rain
Coasts on moistened stars; then to fade in grace.
Rain Contest
For Silent One
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