Sunday Morn

Candied flowers spread their petals Ready to embrace a coming fall Of weathered drops from thundered skies Gaining attention of the lilacs' brawl Branches sway alerted from apprehending trees Birds cry, "Something to gain! Something to gain!" While wind channels sweeten the breeze Hence, luring in the rain "Hail, for it comes!", shouts thundering clouds And a new rainfall was born Adding kin to the river's shroud All during this Sunday morn.