Rain
It’s raining on the rooftop;
I can hear each tiny footsteps,
All pattering about
Like a thousand little creatures
At a race track bout.
I can hear their easy canter
As they warm up at the gate.
Then the lightning’s signal bullet,
And they’re off and running fast.
Faster, faster go the hoofbeats
As they’re coming ’round the bend.
Four thousand feet are flying,
Pounding steady on the track.
Is it my ears deceiving?
Is there a minute break
In the rhythm of those hoofbeats,
As they’re beating out the time?
Ah no! Their speed is gaining,
As a thunderous applause
Breaks out, as if from crowded stands
And rolls throughout the air.
The race has gained momentum,
Through the minutes and the hours.
Still they are relentless
And the end not yet in sight.
Deep beneath my downy covers,
I shall snuggle down to wait,
Lulling my drowsy senses
By their never ending pace.
Was it but a moment
Till again I open eyes
To the silence all around me?
There is no way of knowing
Who has carried off the prize.
And here, the sun is shining,
Yet the dampness in the grass
And a few telltale raindrops
Means the race is not long past.
I gaze out of my window
On a sparkling world, washed clean.
Those tiny steeds are resting
In their stalls, somewhere unseen
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