The rain outside tinkles, tinkles,
On wet, sweet-smelling ground:
Each drop laughing as it falls,
Dispelling happiness all around.
The wind billows my curtains high
And caresses my face;
Says a soft and dewy “hi”,
Then moves back to put the curtains in place.
The night rests on its darkened hours –
It listens to the rain;
The moon and stars are hidden;
But they, too, listen and do not complain.
Everything else is quiet.
No other breath of sound . . .
Just the gay laugh of the rain
And the mischievous wind blowing around.