Anthology

Rain is a joy I can Scarcely comprehend. Water from above
To soak me with
A blessed hope
But sun is always here Drying up my hope.
A dry, brittle sadness Wins its place in
A hard battle
That was decided From the seasons start. But I think I see
The glistening of water, A beautiful drop
Upon my still hands. Wait! I feel another,
But rain is not a hope When it falls from the Eyes of a hard face.