The Rain..

The sound of rain, that slowly dripping drain,

brings back all the memories down the lane,

The paper boats and the those wet mud moulds,

brings back the moments when we were free and bold,

Those short stories of birds and crows,

the days full of innocence and scolds,

Still remember counting raindrops falling on the floor,

making my own territory and guiding that more,

Getting wet and jumping in the puddles,

kicking feet and falling back,

All this was life, happy and free,

little inexpensive affairs with nature,

were better than the expensive quarrels with humans,

Rain used to embrace and hug and make me wet,

and I loved that wet snuggle,

So pure, so true, just out of the world...

The sound of rain, that dripping drain,

brings back so many memories down the lane...