Rain

A melancholy, "rainy-day" poem that I wrote a while ago.

The rain against the window patters

Plopping down, leaving splatters

That mark the window with their tears.

Pitter-pat

By the place where I sat

On that misty morning

When the skies were mourning.

Plop, plink

They fall off the brink

Of the hazy cloud, laced with cold

The winter’s last touch as it grows old.

Drip- drop

The rain drops

Inside it is safe and warm

Sheltered from the storm.

Pitter- patter

A constant clatter

But I, dry in my nook

Sit and read a book

Heedless of the rain

Knowing once again

The sun will shine bright

And bring us new light