RAIN

RAIN

Here’s the pool, close to the lakeWhere the humming rainbow fliesSeek their prey with myriad eyes,Where the maple, touched with red,Bends across the dusty pool,Bathing in its welcome cool,Sunspots break the veil of leavesLike diluted drops of gold,Cloud the pool with dust-like mold.Now the sunspots fade away.Buzzing flies hum louder still,Tense the air hangs damp and chill,And the maple’s glittering leavesTurn their silver-frosted backsTo the wind. A pine-tree cracks.On its breast the first rain falls.Drops like pebbles sharply pelt,Widen to a ring, and melt.

Here’s the pool, close to the lakeWhere the humming rainbow fliesSeek their prey with myriad eyes,Where the maple, touched with red,Bends across the dusty pool,Bathing in its welcome cool,Sunspots break the veil of leavesLike diluted drops of gold,Cloud the pool with dust-like mold.Now the sunspots fade away.Buzzing flies hum louder still,Tense the air hangs damp and chill,And the maple’s glittering leavesTurn their silver-frosted backsTo the wind. A pine-tree cracks.On its breast the first rain falls.Drops like pebbles sharply pelt,Widen to a ring, and melt.

Here’s the pool, close to the lakeWhere the humming rainbow fliesSeek their prey with myriad eyes,Where the maple, touched with red,Bends across the dusty pool,Bathing in its welcome cool,Sunspots break the veil of leavesLike diluted drops of gold,Cloud the pool with dust-like mold.

Here’s the pool, close to the lake

Where the humming rainbow flies

Seek their prey with myriad eyes,

Where the maple, touched with red,

Bends across the dusty pool,

Bathing in its welcome cool,

Sunspots break the veil of leaves

Like diluted drops of gold,

Cloud the pool with dust-like mold.

Now the sunspots fade away.Buzzing flies hum louder still,Tense the air hangs damp and chill,And the maple’s glittering leavesTurn their silver-frosted backsTo the wind. A pine-tree cracks.On its breast the first rain falls.Drops like pebbles sharply pelt,Widen to a ring, and melt.

Now the sunspots fade away.

Buzzing flies hum louder still,

Tense the air hangs damp and chill,

And the maple’s glittering leaves

Turn their silver-frosted backs

To the wind. A pine-tree cracks.

On its breast the first rain falls.

Drops like pebbles sharply pelt,

Widen to a ring, and melt.


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