Song of the Rain

The rain fell down the rooftops The children ran with glee The rain kept on pouring The frogs began to sing The croaking just continued The bathers danced in praise The poet is singing The rain is pouring still The rain seems flowed down the street Beyond the metropolis It reached the far-off places Fields filled with grain The fields were quite muddy The farmer rejoiced in the rain While the prose is being written To be told the next day And the sky roared with thunder The lightning burned the clouds The poet, he is writing Underneath this unsafe place His mind is full of rain Of frogs and happily His quill and ink are flowing Rain seems to be my glee