Song of rain
On a late mild stormy summer evening,
few grey clouds sailed in light blue skies,
the sun rays hidden before a new beginning,
as little John watched leisurely from indoors.
The young boy braved a short stroll outdoor,
by his father’s garden, hoping he was unseen,
small steps creaked, amidst a new downpour,
yet, masked by the sound of a song of rain.
The boy saw above a horde of cloudy skies,
that gathered, a gentle rhythm of falling rain,
a long whistle of sparkling rain on mud pies,
a trail, a lilting tune, time and time again.
The child glanced at green watered leaves,
listening to swishing sounds gifted by winds,
The pitter-patter of rain filling small streams,
nature’s newfangled music to his eager ears.
Rhythm now steadier as rain swiftly increased,
showers kept falling on the young boy’s head,
his little shiny cheeks, wet, as water trickled,
yet, he stayed with a joy of finding a friend.
He arose, leaping dancing in the rain,
a pleasure of finding new hidden treasure,
laughing heartily till his cheeks felt a pain,
a song of nature, a joy knew no measure.
By Sennen Chris Pinto
This poem is a work of fiction and art, and doesn’t resemble any real life character. However, some of the imageries are reflections of a few cherished memories experienced by me.
