IX rain

The rain is great for lovers, and it shows
By falling gently when vows are renewed,
And soaking most strategically through clothes,
Or sheeting down when flight calls for pursuit.
At night, it mirrors passions in the bed,
With gusts and sighs and rattling window frames,
Or if someone is feeling scorned instead,
Makes puddles ripple endlessly. Like pain.s
I love the rain itself, and am content,
Though it be fickle, yet it comes again,
And brings along each green delicious scent
Of spring, and thence no sorrow may refrain.
   Whether my heart be cracked or honeyed sweet,
    It's song will ever lull me into sleep.