The Pouring Rain

Photo by dan carlson

Rain, rain won’t go away,

And will be back another day.

Our roof has large leaks galore,

Especially when the heavens pour.

Its great big heart out

To give us more

Moisture,

The soil a drink,

The lakes to restore,

Levels of their normal reserves.

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That’s all well and good,

In places where everyone should

Be grateful for the insistent falling rain.

But we are in the tropics near the sea,

Where too much rain can generally be

Inconvenient,

Impassible,

And a great big pain-in-the-bum.

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Our leaks are so many,

That if we had any,

Sense, we’d succumb,

To moving away and be done,

With fighting the constant repairs

And live in a house with some stairs,

Instead of a house made of grass and sticks.

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But when the sun comes out

And we are out and about,

We feel much gratitude,

For having the fortitude

To stay in this tropical bliss.

Photo by Nazrin Babashova

And so, until we repair our roof,

And the rain continues as proof,

That the tropics are tropics because they are wet

And we realize we should not regret,

Our living in a place

With nature,

With warmth,

And a paradisiacal sunset.

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I’ll just don my old swimsuit,

Move furniture in pursuit,

Of comfort to stay dry

And not curse, but bless the sky,

As it opens up with plenitude

While I spread my arms in gratitude

For more and more rain.