A Sparrow By A Spring
my heart sinks with the rain,
as it reluctantly makes its way home,
not to rise again, till the heat is come.
in steady patters, it bids farewell,
to weeping leaves and swelled grains.
if only the children could tell,
they wouldn't mind the night, nor rod;
but dare the depth of a late night puddle
and dance with glee in the showers of distress.