Sweet pitter-patter,
The drumming of raindrops,
Lulling me gently,
To realms of sweet dreams,
And bright lights.
That soothing tapping,
Of raindrops hitting,
A freshly washed windshield,
Cradled against plush leather seats,
By tightly pulled seatbelt.
A loud crack of thunder,
Even sounds restful,
On the side of a well-worn highway,
Lighting the night sky,
Like a beacon of hope.
The sickly pitter-patter,
Of crimson drops hitting leather,
Contrasted to the beauty of the rain,
Trapped beneath seatbelts,
And bent metal.
Sweet soft drumming,
Of raindrops on my window,
And the ruined hood of my car,
If the lightning beacon doesn't bring help soon,
I am at least glad...
...to see one last rainstorm.
