Rain Poem by Billy Juergens
Rain
The Pitter-patter
Of water drums,
Over noisy roof
And careless slums.
Through tree and dale
As they fall down,
As they cause tears
For bridal gown.
And though the kids
Turn sick and cold,
And wooden floors
Turn sick with mold;
We sit and pray
Until we're blue-
As every day
We wait for you.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: kids,sick
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8/28/2026 6:57:59 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
