The Rain


The Rain.

The Rain plays on the steel roof,
The Rain claps on the cemented floor, and
The Rain beats on the leaves broad.
‘Tip, Trap, Trap, Tip…’ it sounds.
Singing away with the worldly hue.
It sings of a season new.
‘Tip, Trap, Trap, Tip…’
It says to the withering flower,
‘Worry not for here I am ‘.
It promises to the waiting farmers,
A hearty and prosperous season.
It sings to the mellowed grasses, and
Dances on the roof tops,
Kissing away the heated Earth,
Promising life and to nourish it.

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