The rain is raining all around,
It falls on field and tree,
It rains on the umbrellas here,
And on the ships at sea. – Robert Louis Stevenson
Dad told me that he read a lot poems by Stevenson when he was a boy. Poems about shadows, and swings, and this one, about rain. I mention it today because it is raining.
It is raining on horses and squirrels,
As well as the parched lawn and tree,
It rains on dad’s broken umbrella,
But worst it rains down on me!
So I stay inside most of the time.
I guess that I should appreciate the rain. After all, we need it, and it is much nicer to have the hills looking so lush and green.
And I like running and running, even if it is raining, but it can also be cold, and wet, and when I come inside I get dried off but I have to stay on my bed in my room until I am really dry and I can’t play and jump and …
You get the picture.
I wish it was summer. Nice and warm, and dry …
When is summer coming, dad? Huh?