Shape Of The Pouring Rain Poem by J Sheba Anandhi

From the clouds the water drops to the ground,
As the rain falls every drop comes with a sound,
The repeated sound makes up an idyllic tune,
When this happens one cannot see the moon,
The melody would stir up the spirit to write a new song
Once the pen is on paper, don't know what comes along,
Like a breeze words gently flow from within,
And the script takes shape of the pouring rain,
When the rain stops, the sky becomes clear,
But the tune doesn't stop, the ear could hear,
How could the rhythm still remain in the scorching summer!
This must be the memory the mind continues to remember.