Colours In Rain
written by: Thomas Andrew
@thomasawriter
Think of the falling raindrops,
whose task is to nourish the soil.
Each reflects the sunlight,
projects colour through the toil.
Falls like every crooked dictator,
eager as a horse on heat.
Swoops like a hunting hawk,
onto fields growing yellow wheat.
An indescribable aroma,
in an air filled with childhood nostalgia.
Forever breaking through nature,
Scents more polluted, more neuralgia.
Shoes soaked by puddles,
and coat sleeves seep.
On the top of umbrellas,
Water droplets sleep.
Makes sopping hair smell of shampoo
Clouds cry damp smelling tears.
Droplets bounce off roofs and roads,
cutting through the sky like shears.
Droplets splashing like children playing.
From grey pillows in the sky.
sitting peacefully by the window.
Thinking about life as I sigh.
Ugly puddles of oil,
reflecting rainbows by the rain.
Covering up the imperfection,
like paracetamol does with pain.
Then the sun screams.
Making everything more hazy.
The rain has fallen,
and the day is lazy.
Everyone is happy now.
Despite the sodden ground.
We know this is life, a necessity.
As the planet goes around.
- Colours In Rain - September 1, 2018
