Sometimes, these days when I walk by
And when I look into the cloudy sky
There’s electricity there, sizzling blue
“Shocking!”, I say, its funny but true

These clouds, they gather round and wait
For a man who curses out at all the wetness
And drown him so, with drops of rain
Intruding, seeping, a perfect mess…

It gets into the shoes, and papers too
And bags and purses and mobile phones, new
And causes all around, mayhem, stress
When it ruins a perfectly good new dress

But it offers its moments, romantic, but few
And its stories, under an umbrella, of people two
And moments lost tracing a droplet, or rain
While sipping tea with biscuits, near a window pane…