Raining stair-rods, quick watch your head,
Cats and dogs, they’d end up dead.
Hammering it down, that must be Thor,
God of thunder bashing at my door.
Big umbrellas with a pointy spike,
Spear me in places that I dislike.
Wellie boots and waterproof coats,
Leaves float past like little boats.
Rivers rising, a bursting bank,
Drainage flooding smelling rank.
The sun fights hard to win the day,
A spear of light sneaks out to play.
It paints a rainbow from West to East,
Blotting out the dark cloud beast.
Flowers bloom and dance with joy,
Like a wind-up painted toy.
The sun scorched grass is turning green,
With its shot of rain caffeine.
Wild birds stamp their four-clawed feet,
Hoping for a lug worm treat.
Black, wet Tarmac; The sweet perfume,
Lift my senses from the gloom.
Sweet Mother Earth, she keeps on turning,
Come rain, come snow, come forests burning.
The rain-filled Storm Clouds now drift your way,
So I’ll just sit back and enjoy the day.