Rain

I stretched, and they stepped,

They stepped on my seething hand gently,like petite ballerinas

Doing their little routine,as if trying to cheer me up,

They did twists,turns and tired themselves,

Pouring ice cold water on a perennial brook of fire,

and putting it out,for a while,

They happily stomped on the ground making psychedelic patterns,

Making my soul mellow with sheer pleasure,
She dashed onto my feverish,pale face,
Giving me the best cure of all time,
She shook them with pleasing vivacity ,
That made one dance with joy and sheer rebellion,
Now if only she visited everyday,
Than once in a blue moon.