APRIL SHOWERS






BRING MAY FLOWERS






The Rain
© by Edward Lowe


The rain in waves goes dashing by
Like clouds of smoke or snow on high.
Each drop is trying in it fury
To beat the other in its flurry.
It is a cold and friendless weather
Although its touch is like a feather
The mist, the fog, all take the pain
To tell us softly - I am rain.

Too much or little, now we learn
This seems to be life's chief concern.
We'd better thank the winds that blow
It's the nectar of God that makes us grow.






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Copyright ©2000 Marilyn's Spring Place
All Rights Reserved
Original stories, poems, and photographs are ©2000 Marilyn's Spring Place



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