A Walk In The Rain Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

She went out walking in the rain,
light clouds were showing her the way,
her face, a trace of fresh disdain
yet she felt happier today.

She came upon a bank of weeds
they all were gathered linked by leaves
last season's small discarded seeds
was thriving, mocking callous thieves.

What caught her eye was fair and bright
a proud Hibiscus, painted gold
and in the fading summer's light
her head said, grab it, be so bold.

The weeds formidable and strong
stood, like a Royal Honour Guard,
she thought of taking her along
perhaps attach a greeting card.

That moment, she was reaching for
the flower that recalled her past,
when from the sky, not Zeus nor Thor
sent down a fire storm to blast

a careless thief and hand out penance
no, it was man made, a small bell,
and silence struck the forest's tenants
the sound could well have come from Hell.

It was his voice, what wondrous timing,
he wanted just to hear her say
in complex prose or simple rhyming
I love you, though she shouted YAY.

It was like touching 'cross an ocean
impulsive like a toddler's pogo
of love's own cobweb of devotion
who knows the essence, who the logo?

She went home, singing in the rain,
a kindly Moon showed her the way.
She clutched her flower, so profane
it was the happiest, this day.