The rain
It comes trifling down not
daring to touch the ground
but with one swoosh of air
it flaws to get there.
Soon and so its waters
washes a flow.
Then the cycle begins again.
Soon it will give
cause the rain will win.
It will come pouring,pouring
down again.
As the ground lay below,and
the sky high above,the rain
will spill out like a raven or dove.
Sending out whispers of a sound
knowing it wont be long before it
reaches the ground.
Once again it sees his friend
come trifling down again.


written by Joyce Ann Turner