Aunty Em
Well-Known Member
...It's raining...
Rainy Days and Mondays
I like rain.
Not the soft,
namby-pamby
misty autumn morning sort,
that touches you like fairy dew,
leaves you wanting more.
The bouncing-off-the-ground,
who-turned-on-the-taps,
stinging face kind
that slaps you
like an overwrought lover,
drenches through to skin,
makes you think -
"I should've brought the shower gel,”
leaves you
slick-hair plastered,
cleansed of all impurities.
I like rain --
no-one can see you cry.
©2003 Celia Lawton-Livingstone
Rainy Days and Mondays
I like rain.
Not the soft,
namby-pamby
misty autumn morning sort,
that touches you like fairy dew,
leaves you wanting more.
The bouncing-off-the-ground,
who-turned-on-the-taps,
stinging face kind
that slaps you
like an overwrought lover,
drenches through to skin,
makes you think -
"I should've brought the shower gel,”
leaves you
slick-hair plastered,
cleansed of all impurities.
I like rain --
no-one can see you cry.
©2003 Celia Lawton-Livingstone