The wind howls, the trees sway,
The loose house-top sheets clatter and clang,
The open window shuts with a bang,
And the sky makes night of day.
Helter-skelter the parents run,
Pressed with a thousand minor cares.
“Hey, you there! Pack the house-wares
And where on earth is my son?”
Home skip the little children:
“Where have you been, you naughty boy?”
The child can feel nothing but joy,
For he loves the approach of the rain.
The streets clear, the houses fill,
The noise gathers as children shout
To rival the raging wind without,
And nought that can move is still.
A bright flash! A lighted plain;
Then from the once-blue heavens,
Together with a noise that deafens,
Steadily pours the rain.
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Ron