When clouds above are a soft gray,
The pen dances across the page with its own free will.

I look up to the melting sky,
Cool waters washing over me-
Watching rain collect in a little sea.
And I can almost count the drops that dot my page.

To see the clouds unhinged and stretched wide,
Is to dream a dream and sigh the sigh.

Present only while the sun wishes to hide,
A shower of tears to cause both joy and pain.

Words are music that blend with the strumming-
Of nature's most whimsical song.
The scent of the storm fills the air,
Leafs dappling the ground in a graceful manner.

Oh how I love a summer’s rain,
An ever changing feeling in your heart and mind.

A glowing smile and golden words,
Ink running like tears on ivory paper.

The wind howls in rage and the words pace quickens,
The water crashes against the rocks at rhythmic pace.
A shower of tears causing both joy and pain,
Blood burning, breath quickening, the spirit soars.

Poetry and rain are birds of a feather;
Here to verse now and forever.