I stand by the window
and listen to the rhythm of the rain
as it taps against the windowpane.
It sounds as if it’s calling out
for my love to come home again.
We had a quarrel and nasty words were said.
In the heat of the moment,
they rolled out of our heads.
Then there was the slamming of the front door
and away you were gone.
I was left standing here all alone.
The rain then came tapping
against the windowpane
and I was filled with regret
wanting you back again.
I went out to find you
to say how sorry I was.
As I passed our garden
where all our pretty roses grew
and on each petal was a raindrop.
Each reminding me of all the teardrops
that had rained down your cheeks.
I found you on the corner,
you were soaking wet through,
I put my arms around you
said that I loved you.
I was so glad you were back
in my arms where you should always be,
no crying no more
like the teardropp on a rose.
24 September 2008
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is from the bush of where all love poems spend some time in their lives... tis a good one to be clipped as you have done here... aroha and Happy New Year to you, Deana xx