My senses are on fire
Now, how do I explain?
You see I never tire
from listening to the rain.
The gentle fall of every little drop
plopping gladly on my windowsill.
It is the splash, the plip and the plop
and the dark of the clouds perfectly still.
The fresh smell it brings revives
Each and every living thing.
It is that makes the garden survive
and allows my heart to sing.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 7:31 AM UTC
My senses are on fire
Now, how do I explain?
You see I never tire
from listening to the rain.
The gentle fall of every little drop
plopping gladly on my windowsill.
It is the splash, the plip and the plop
and the dark of the clouds perfectly still.
The fresh smell it brings revives
Each and every living thing.
It is that makes the garden survive
and allows my heart to sing.