On a gliding plain,
I repose like a longing child,
With a rush of firefly words,
Pondering like a perplexed slain.
The beady eyes of mine,
Longing for the season of rain,
Watch the umbrella sky,
To hose down it’s mist to dine.
Up above the sky,
The wings of aqua spread,
Deluging as plop! plop! and plop!
Dampening my heart not to dry.
A gliding plain, a prairie
A longing child, a fairy
Firefly words and perplexed slain-
Drench in the stormy,
WHEN IT RAINS.
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