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Rain is a four letter word© Brian Tang
Whenever it rains, I feel so free 
Free as a bird, rain is my life 

Washing away my troubles 
Quenching my sun baked soul 

While others rush for cover 
I stroll among the empty streets 
The rain dancing upon my lips 

Looking up at the gray clouds 
I open my mouth to catch the rain 
Laughing at the silliness of it 

Whenever I am sad 
The rain hides my tears, 
And soothes me with 
The fresh clean air 

The soft pitter-patter on my window 
Lulls me to sleep as it sings its lullaby 

I let out a sigh 
As I wave goodbye 
To the departing clouds 
The sun shining through 

Until next time rain 
For now I bid thee 

poem  2
The Art of Rain© Mitchell D. Wilson

Falling Down, pooling up, 
Out of the sky, into my cup. 

What is this wet that comes from above, 
That some call disaster, and others find love. 

The harder it falls, the less it is nice, 
The colder it falls the harder the ice. 

The rain has an art that I may not get, 
So I stand still here and get soaking wet.


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