...and I, yes, I cherish rain.
O sweetest rain! Delicious hours the pale
Eye of this wetness owns! I note fr'intents
How puddles gaily dance as if a sense
Of that wet kiss half nuzzles me t'avail,
Bounce cuz the sparrows happ'ly cry "all hail!"
Breathe fresh-ground coffee's wafting odours hence
Like just the scent is good enough, and thence
Erm, chatter 'non to Dad, like that owns bail.
...As if I'm still his little girl, yes, her
He took so many pictures of, ere to
Effect sons 'gan to fill the scene in tour--
I talk like jabbring gaily might well do.
And lo, Thy mercies new each morning stir
Our souls to praise Thee. Rain...and coffee too.
Well, I'll confess now that I was trying to prove to "him" my new-found nonchalance. And he was trying to make sense of me, I guess. ****. NOTE: and write late Monday evening, AFTER our final rehearsal for the following night's recital.