The Flood. Poem by Harold R Hunt Sr

The flood.
It began to rain today. I thought that it never end.
The rain fell as it gains more water.
I looked out my back door to see it flow in the brook out there.
The harder it rain the more it gained to a level I could see.
The water rushed over the grass almost to my glass.
It starts to rise with such a hush that I didn't hear it at my door.
The rain was climbing to a high that I knew it was time to say goodbye.
A knock at the door I did hear as a fireman did call. You have to leave.
For there is a flood and we can't let you stay.
The rain that day was such a pain.
There is not any good in a flood