Tiamat

Rain…fall…
Slow~ly~
If only you’d stop,
if on~ly.

Rain…fall…
Dee~per~
Chilling my bones,
you creep~er.

Rain..fall..
Qui~cker.
The wetter the roads,
the sli~cker.

Rain..fall..
Down~ down.
Flooding the rivers,
drowning the town.

Rain. Fall.
To~night.
Swallow the world
and swallow~ the light.

A night for soup

I hear the pounding on the wall
which is surely being worn
by the fury of the squall,
by the raging of the storm.

I see falling torrents of rain
drifting o’er road and grass,
clinging to the window pane,
and tapping on the glass.

I can smell it in the breeze
through the opened window’s screen
carrying the scent of trees,
musty and yet somehow clean.

And I can feel it getting stronger
gearing up to last even longer.

Lullaby

Listening to the sound of rain
battering on the windowpane
as I drift off to sleep
in the dark, oh so deep,
that washes away my day’s pain.

The sound of rain

I’m listening to the sound of rain
caressing each blade of grass,
lingering on the window pane.

It lays low the sugar cane –
that tumble down with a crash.
I’m listening to the sound of rain.

I lift high my head and crane
towards the recent lightning’s flash
lingering on the window pane.

The whistling of the raindrop train
and booming splendor of each splash.
I’m listening to the sound of rain.

How many days have I lain
watching it, in my blanket sash,
lingering on the window pane?

Though it’s so simple and so plain,
I love each and every moistened lash.
I’m listening to the sound of rain
lingering on the window pane.