Tag Archives: Rain

… and then the rain stopped

… and then the rain stopped,

although momentarily,

and we sighed a sigh.

Scene from a window – Monday


The rain it fell

and well it did,

the worms that hid

deep in the ground

surfaced to see the Sun,

and, as one, became targets

for the blackbird.

The worms were destined

to be winter fare;

which is not fair,

but Nature is like that.

And still it rains

The ongoing downpour

is, hopefully,

going to top our depleted reserves;

if not, we shall have to order in more rain

for all over the Christmas period.

I’m dreaming of a wet Christmas,

just like the ones we used to snow.

Sunday in the rain

Sunday arrived,

and so did the rain,

it washed away the snow,

the ice, the slush,

and made things clean again.

But, damp,

oh so very damp indeed;

it rained so much more

than was necessary,

needed to do the job,

and if it keeps on raining,

we’ll go outside and bob

around the garden,

or sit on rafts and float;

I think I might just spend today

in fashioning a boat.

It rained (and I died)

It rained and rained,

and I got wet,

it soaked me through;

and, yes, I caught pneumonia,

double, died;

and then the rain stopped,

the Sun came out,

and all things dried;

it was a lovely day,

but a shame I’d died.

Having a Rainstorm (a Haiku)

Leaking from above,

falling damp meets rising damp;

I soak it all up.

Well, what a lovely day, today is

Well, what a lovely day, today is,

and it’s the only today that we’ve got,

it owns a bucket full of weather,

which is really rather a lot.


I’m out now in the rain,

and the wind, and the damp, and the cold,

it’s a bit of a joke, the weather,

one that’s never growing old.


There’s fog and mist and mizzle,

all for a soul to endure;

and, betwixt the frost and drizzle,

there’s another bucket more.

The Seagull and the Rainbow

The seagull flew

across the sky,

and spied a Rainbow

passing by;

the seagull asked

‘Where do you go,

when the Sun and rain are through?’

The Rainbow replied,

‘When they have gone,

when the rain has fallen,

and the Sun has shone,

I follow after,

in their wake,

until another bow

I should take.’


The seagull flew,

the Rainbow faded,

life carried on,

though now slightly jaded.

Seagulls flying backwards

Seagulls flying backwards,

(It’s such a wet windy day)

busy going nowhere,

with nothing much to say.



It’s raining again.

Why does it always rain on me?

It’s raining, men!

Now I can’t live without the rain.

I’m just crying in the rain,

and it’s raining in my champagne –

which is making the bubbles disappear,

and the champagne very weak.

It’s raining outside,

but that’s not unusual.

It’s probably raining on somebody’s parade,

but I don’t know whose.

Between the rain and the Sun

they have contrived to make a rainbow.

So, that’s alright – isn’t it?

So much rain.