On rainy days wet and chill
I sit upon the windowsill
and listen to the rain beat
a patter-dance of small feet.
The floods engulf the house-lane,
and brooks run down the window-pane.
Ducks from Pond in wet feathers
waddle in their favorite weather.
The flowers bend for water-weight,
and puddles pool around the gate.
I like it when the world bathes
and sun is covered by rain-wraiths:
Those heavy clouds of grey slate.
Yes, rainy days I do not hate,
for I am warm, dry entire
as I lounge before blazing fire,
laughing at the world outside
with its grey flowing water tide.
The earth at peace; I at rest.
This be the weather I like best.
On rainy days wet and chill,
I sit upon the windowsill
and listen to the rain beat
a patter-dance of small feet.