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Rain in the Garden
Rain in the Garden
Heavy enough to fall.
Light enough to feel.
Music in her heart,
that is real.
O well-painted passion!
Goats and monkeys!
Fill all thy bones with aches.
Yet this shall I never know,
but live in doubt,
Till my bad Angel fire my good one out.
Melted worth,
tales being with him and with ore,
already him, here, lies one.
How might we explain,
Yelling at the rain?
A moment of fright?
Quatrain of pain? Disdain?
Angels refrain.
Shakespeare, Jodie Flowers, Tim Furgeson
Yelling At The Rain?
That is one fine line ~allets