The rain in Spain
Is nothing like the rain in Maine,
(Or New Hampshire, for that matter–
It makes the same old patter!)
However, it empowers
All the thirsty flowers
And makes a cat-lapping sound
Against the windows and on the ground.
The smell of rain on window panes
Might be preferable the smell of rain in Spain–
I wouldn’t know, because I’m not there,
I’m here at home, watching it in my underwear–
But the rain I see,
It seems to me
Would be better shared
On rocky soil, and no flowers spared
The dry and hot kiss of the sun,
And the arid air that isn’t all that fun.
Rain we know brings the flowers and seedlings,
(Not to mention all those rotten weedlings!)
So be grateful that it’s only rain
And not the snow that was such a pain–
At least it doesn’t pile up,
Like that snow that seemed a mile up–
I’m glad all that has passed
And we’re nearly to summer, at last!
So bring on that rain,
Whether from Spain or Maine–
Doesn’t matter much to me,
As long as it waters our gardens for free!