POETRY
Ode to Rain
Muse of Poets
In twilight hush, where shadows play,
The rain descends, a melody of grey,
A lullaby that gently sways, and calms the heart.
In the streets, where breezes dance and sway,
An incomplete scene without rain in play.
Bass drums beat, a masquerade on Victory Lane, oh so sweet.
From each road to the twinkling lights above,
A windy breezy, I love,
Halt! The rain stops me.
Amidst traffic streams, walking through these bustling streets
With hope, freedom whispers as rain pours,
The dazzling sheen of breezes, from the skies above, a symphony unfolds.
Nature’s maestro, the thunder, roars,
A gentle breeze stirs, a prelude in the air,
Inviting clouds to weep, to show their care.
With each drop that falls, a story is told,
Of healing pitter-patter, a world consoled,
Rain, the artist, paints on window panes,
A masterpiece of solace, washing away the stains.
The windowpane, a canvas bright,
Reflects the moon, a silver light,
The drops, dance and spin and glide,
A symphony of nature, inside.
Outside, the leaves rustle and stir,
A chorus of whispers, pure and clear,
Ode to Rain, muse of Poets and Hearts,
Your tears, like pearls, are works of art.
A symphony of life, a song of cheer,
That fills the heart with joy and dear.
The rain washes away the pain,
And brings new life, a brighter day,
A time for dreams, a time for a new life,
A symphony from above.
The streets are quiet, and the city sleeps
But the rain, it never weeps
It brings a sense of peace and calm
A soothing lullaby, a healing balm
As the rain begins to subside
The sun peeks out.
Ode to Rain, muse of Poets and Hearts,
Your tears, like pearls, are works of art.
Your tears, like pearls, are works of art.
