And every drop of rain which falls
Is all because of you.
They wet the houses’ roofs and walls,
The streets and alleys, too,
And land upon the waiting cars
To make the best of sights;
They sparkle like a million stars
Beneath the city lights.
And yet the drops which I prefer
Are those which damp your hair;
I feel my inner artist stir
With love beyond compare.
For all that, though, they can’t eclipse
The drops my lips find on your lips.
Photo by Chris Curry on Unsplash
