Here’s another poem about Rain. Is it raining in your neck of the woods? It’s raining in mine, and I hope each of you stays safe and enjoys this poem!
The Art of Rain
Falling Down, pooling up,
Out of the sky, into my cup.
What is this wet that comes from above,
That some call disaster and others find love.
The harder it falls, the less it is nice,
The colder it falls the harder the ice.
The rain has an art that I may not get,
So I stand still here and get soaking wet.
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