Raining stair-rods, quick watch your head,

Cats and dogs, they’d end up dead.

Hammering it down, that must be Thor,

God of thunder bashing at my door.

Big umbrellas with a pointy spike,

Spear me in places that I dislike.

Wellie boots and waterproof coats,

Leaves float past like little boats.

Rivers rising, a bursting bank,

Drainage flooding smelling rank.

The sun fights hard to win the day,

A spear of light sneaks out to play.

It paints a rainbow from West to East,

Blotting out the dark cloud beast.

Flowers bloom and dance with joy,

Like a wind-up painted toy.

The sun scorched grass is turning green,

With its shot of rain caffeine.

Wild birds stamp their four-clawed feet,

Hoping for a lug worm treat.

Black, wet Tarmac; The sweet perfume,

Lift my senses from the gloom.

Sweet Mother Earth, she keeps on turning,

Come rain, come snow, come forests burning.

The rain-filled Storm Clouds now drift your way,

So I’ll just sit back and enjoy the day.