It isn’t a reel that I dance
It is a close-quarter emissary that does it
And I watch.
For it is about to come, the real-whended useful noise
Called the rain.
Here it comes and there
It goes down the pipe
To the rain’s porter called the Butt.
But me when to see
But don’t ask when to pour as the rain
Shall be then and thent the need for water
Copyright B E Saunders 2016