I would swim a never-ending ocean,
Climb a mountain
That reaches into the sky,

Hike through treacherous bushlands,
I would challenge any staircase, Regardless of how high!


I would inhale the Earths atmosphere,
I would pocket every galaxy and star,

I would drain every deep-sea,
Lake, lagoon and river,
Anything to keep them nearer,
Rather than far!

I would fly to the edge of reality,
I would hitchhike across the globe,

I would skydive from the heavens,
I would carry a mountainous load...

To be with my five precious daughters. .

By Lady R.F. (C)2017

To begin with there begins a little sprinkle, only a delicate sound

just delicate, a small "titter" as it taps on your secondary passage.

This, at to begin with, you have a go at overlooking 'til it's decidedly pouring

it reestablishes and continues invigorating each living thing around.

At that point it streams down the timber of the trees with branches agile

what's more, the leaves surrender clean as, drinking heartily, they sup.

Where the beads make a sprinkle, there the drainpipe begins a ******

or, on the other hand it tickles through the rings 'til it douses into the ground.

In the canal there's a puddle, only a little center obfuscate

at that point it develops into a gusher as it sputters past the control.

This downpour tumbles towards the tar, ten times as quick and twice as far

as the tormented educators pull at both their tunics and their sleeve.

Furthermore, once more, it makes an air pocket and makes a little inconvenience

for the wetness of the water causes sobbing from the astute.

There's a flooding of the fields as the water waves and wheels

what's more, the grieving Mormons on their bicycles are crying to the skies.

While the raindrops keep running round edges and they swell down the extensions

at that point they join the happy excursion at the intersection with a run.

When they accumulate in the canal there's a sputtering, merry splutter

with a splashing and expression, they're singing as they clear out.

There's a stammer and a shake as the gusher battles a fight

with the gravity of planet as it joins the droning throng.

However, it's inclination is constant and disregards each safe

pattern of obstructions as determinedly it wends it's direction once more.

Presently it looks for the last butcher and it jumps into the water

of the sea at the passageway of the place we call the narrows.

There's a happy "hurrah" of adulating to the Ruler who has been looking

down on every one of his youngsters, named or not, who looked for his favored 'Rain'.

Quickly glancing
Towards the clock
How much time
Before I'm not
So much more
To be done
Frantically
Running
Towards
The Sun

Finish line
Just ahead
Fires
Burning
Green and red
What is
This big hurry
To be dead?