Dripsy Dropsy

Dripsy Dropsy

Monsoon’s Dripsy Dropsy Rhythm

Falling Down, pooling up,
Out of the sky, into my cup.
What is this wet that comes from above,
That some call disaster, and others find love.
The harder it falls, the less it is nice,
The colder it falls the harder the ice.
The rain has an art that I may not get,
So I stand still here and get soaking wet.
Red, blue or cream.
They all shout in joy,
Rain you always come in my dream.
Whenever it rains, I feel so free
Free as a bird, rain is my life
Washing away my troubles
Quenching my sun-baked soul
While others rush for cover
I stroll among the empty streets
The rain dancing upon my lips.


©The Honest FablerPooja Mukherjee
©Image Source – Google Images