"Raindrop Rhythm"
by Fannie L. Houck

Heard the rhythm of the raindrops
Dripping to the ground.
Heard the rhythm of the raindrops
Dropping all around.
Heard the rhythm of the raindrops
Drumming on the rafter.
Heard the rhythm of the raindrops
Drowning out our laughter.

Painting "Lunch Under a Red Umbrella"

(Click Above Pic to Visit Artist Website)

Umbrellas are for make-believe

The one I have is red.

I twirl it upside down

and it's a carousel instead.

I use it for a parachute

(I don't jump very far.)

And I got soaking wet.

The parasol is the umbrella's daughter,

And associates with a fan

While her father abuts the tempest

And abridges the rain.

The former assists a siren

In her serene display;

But her father is borne and honored,

And borrowed to this day.

By Emily Dickinson

Or else I walk a tightrope

On the shadow of a bar

I think it must be magic, too.

My mother was upset

the day it vanished in the rain and I

got soaking wet.

Umbrellas are unnecessary unless,

under amber cumuli,

you attempt incineration

or your interview's important

or your underwear is water-soluble.

::Caught in the Rain::Clouds::Fairies::Lightning::

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