The Stray Spray

The beauty of a cloudy morn,
The feel of the cool pleasant wind,
The free wind flowing,
Flowing down the hills,
The soft breeze, the dim sun,
Combine to make it a wonderful one.
Now though noon has come,
The sun is still yet to come,
Out into the grey cloudy sky,
A distant flash of lightning,
Warns of impending rain.
Noon wears on and on,
The breeze blows heavily on.
A blinding flash, a thundering blast,
Herald the storm about to break.
Evening sets in, so does the rain,
Lightning flashes, thunder booms,
It rains like it has never before....
Soon there is a lull in the rain,
The clouds part, the light pours through,
Setting the distant hills ablaze,
Ablaze in its golden glow....
The sky darkens, the rain resumes,
Resumes its ceaseless patter,
On the leaves and the roof.....
Now the storm has blown itself out,
The clouds vanish, it still drizzles.....
The sun is out and a rainbow arcs,
Arcs itself high into the sky.....
Soon the sun sets,
Sets in a burst of golden red,
The day is gone now; gone to bed....