Drip drop! Drip drop! Plip, plop! Plip, plop!
Gentle rhythms on my windowsill,
Warming my mind in this morning's chill,
Set my thoughts to effortless swirling,
Imaginations of dancing and twirling.
Rousing my sleep-filled eyes to see,
Outside my window appearing to be,
Children playing in dappling puddles,
Laughing at life, forgetting its struggles.
Dream-like images of long ago,
Take me back to when it was so,
I would play in the soft rain for hours,
Looking at life through April's showers.
Lord, thank you for this glorious rain,
Soothing my soul and easing my pain,
As my own winter now comes to pass,
Miracles still fall on new blades of grass.
Nothing comforts more than the sound,
Of raindrops reaching a thirsty ground,
Playing out melodies in perfect time,
Washing away yesterday's grime.
Now the rhythm is slowly subsiding
Sunshine peeps from where it was hiding,
Clouds sail away like mighty sea ships,
Leaving behind bright shimmering drips.
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