Rain
Pitter patter, pitter patter,
Windshield wipers slapping,
Rapping to the beat,
Of pouring rain.
Tinkle, tinkle,
Putting me to sleep,
On the tin roof,
In our old farmhouse.
Slapping, slapping,
Hard on my head
Caught in the storm,
Trying to outrun the rain.
Whispers, whispers,
It is calling to me,
Listen to the rhythm,
Of the shadows of rain.
Rebecca Lyle ©02/11/11
Copyright Reserved
rhythmic - Whispers, whispers, It is calling to me, Listen to the rhythm, Of the shadows of rain. nice 10++++
thank you for writing this poem I learn a method of writing today.
Whispers, whispers, calling to me, Listen to the rhythm, of the shadows of rain. These last lines i liked most in your beautiful poem It shows the innocence of your heart. Simply liked it very much dear poetess. Thankyou
I thank you so much, my friend. I have written poetry for 50 years, this is a simple little poem but I loved that part also. I am President of the Ohio chapter of the worldwide union of Poets, there is one in every state and country.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem. Reminds me of my childhood days that I lived in a tin roofed house.
me too, thank you so much.