When it rains,

      poetry soaks me to the bone.

    I toss the old bulky umbrella aside,

            and allow my pen and parchment to collide.

         Dripping words from my chin,

my feet dance... the puddles of emotion they're in.

   Keep your towel, your sheltering tree,

           poetic rain frees a soul ...it stimulates me.

   Oh sky of wonder, bathe my body, cleanse my soul,

               allow my words to fill some holes.