Poem: Drip, Drip, Drop

It’s been raining all weekend, and I had this poem in my head last night. This one is from the early college days, but still fun. I wish I could still rhyme like I did back then, but I am so rarely inspired lately.

The thing about rain, though, is that here is something about the sound of rain, the smell of it, the feel of it on your skin that tells a story all on its own.

Spectacular kisses always happen in the middle of a rain storm…it’s the fantastic release of the earth’s pent-up energy, and on those really sad days, it’s the tears you feel inside, the universe crying, sharing in with your grief…

Anyway, here it is just a poem, and me thinking about the sound of water as it falls. It’s not really about a rain storm at all. 😉

Hope everyone is having a great weekend!


IMG_20140510_152509351_HDRDrip, Drip, Drop

Drip, drip, drop, goes the water in the sink.

As I stand there listening, it gets me to think;

How much water is in the ocean,

When the waves all dip in motion,

is it as great as I imagine,

Or a waste?

Does the sunlight on the water glisten?

Can you smell its salty taste?

 

Drip, drip, drop, goes the water when it rains.

Flowing down rusty gutters and down shiny window panes.

It gathers in wide, muddy puddles.

It clears away the dust.

It drips on plants and worn-out metal,

And gathers where it must.

 

Drip, drip, drop, goes the water in the sink.

As it is wasting, it gets me to think.

How much water will be needed,

When our whole supply is depleted?

When our water just flows out the drain?

There will be no waves in motion,

Because there is no ocean, or water…to form rain.

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