Rain

The rain, again, is knocking at the window,
Timorously, humbly for the first time,
With his drops, mischievously, he draws
He invites to be with him a while.

The Rain, my friend, is able to surprise!
Oh, he can choose directions, moods and styles...
I am thrilled, for suddenly, he starts,
Leaving tenderness turned into thunderstorm at once.

The noise and might created horror picture –
The dark background with a silver grey
And every millimetre – water mixture –
The flurry wind with flood and sudden spate.

The waterfall soon changed his anger to the mercy,
The blue sky, pretty bright, appeared up above
It seemed the rainfall stopped, it was my thoughts,
But friend of mine was dancing on outside.

The rain was joyful – frolicked, funny, amused
He chose his movements, styles, directions
He chose the whisper with the merry breeze,
He took an active part in verse creation.
14.08.2014