The Rain's Call

Pitter-patter, pitter-patter,
The rain falls.
A rhythmic drumbeat,
The rain calls.

Onto rooftops and streets,
Nestling into the grassy ground,
Pitter-patter goes the rain,
Drowning out all other sound.

Into wet ground,
The rain falls.
Amidst the splashing of feet,
The rain calls.

As children jump and play,
Their laughter rising in the air,
Playfully, the rain falls,
Pitter-patter without a care.

Outside closed doors,
Muted by walls,
Into open fresh air,
The rain calls.

The elderly stay within, content,
With warm cookies and hot tea.
While the rain puts on a show for them,
Pleasant to hear and to see.

Pitter-patter at the bus-stop,
Rain like tears falls,
Under dark skies,
The rain calls.

To a cold and lonely figure,
Lost in a memory's hall,
Pitter-patter says the rain,
A companion in misery's pall.

Breathing new life,
Into gloomy halls,
A breath of freshness,
The rain calls.

Windswept wet streets,
See two lovers re-unite,
Lips touch in a lovers embrace,
A beautiful, touching sight.

So many people,
To each a different call,
All this encompassed,
Under the blanket of the rainfall.

Building up to a gentle rush now,
Promising fun, I still hear it fall.
And opening the door, I step out,
To answer the rain's insistent call.