It never rains in my garden, the ground is parched, flowers drooped
I spy the rain clouds but they pass me by again, I am stooped
Over this gardening fork wondering why the water does not come
Is there a shortage of liquid where I go, why do I become dumb
With uncertainty about the rains that refuse to soak my skin.
There is a conspiracy amongst the clouds in my regard I think.

Rain rain upon my solid unyielding ground where I stand
Let me feel the pitter patter of rain drops on my dry hands,
I want to look to the heavens and feel the water on my face
I am desperate to experience the watery waves in this space.
Let the storms of indifference go their own way, away away,
Why should I really care about where they end up one day.

It never rains in my house even when all the windows are open 
I send personal messages to the darkening skies hoping then
They will release the prize I am so keen to have all around me
Their reply disappoints for they say there is a delay, I must see
That it’s important for the rains to soak the more deserving,
I am not counted in that number, this I have been observing.

Rain rain I beseech you train your dripping and cascading
Unique cargo upon my eyes, my ears, my mind, ranging
Down upon the months where rain was never going to be,
I wanted to be soaked in the kindness of the waterfall, see
It was my desire, it was my inspiration it is my reality,
I can’t change the weather, I am now without water really.

It never rains upon the page I use to write my poetry, 
I am relieved that it spares me the task of drying leaves
Of paper, and saves the ink from smudging, being unclear  
And creating patterns that laugh loudly into my inner ear,
Rain rain why can’t you comfort my wild and edgy mind
Why can’t I have dampness that rain always leaves behind?