The Rain.

Ah!
I can tell the difference now
It could be blue
It can be grey –the sky.

It could play you a melody
Or would just be a nuisance –rhythmic thunder.

It could brighten the sky,
Your path perhaps
Or even
Make a dangerous design; blinding lights –dancing lightning.

But;
It will come slow,
A steady shower
Gracing you with a smile.
It is gentle, no?

--you don’t know;
Mother nature is bitter at heart
Her husband, he is never nice to her
So, she weeps—
And then it pours!
They clap their hands and shine their whites.
She cries her bitterness out
Oh no,
Here comes the rain
Hear their deranged laughs.
You better run.