Sweet rain
Trickling down the drain
As I keep writing
A poem nice and plain
The trees are green
And so are my shoes
But that's beside the point
They are not of much use
As I am drinking my tea
My fingers slightly frozen
I'm thinking of a rhyme
That I have not yet chosen
But oh look I have already started
With this random thinking
While the cloths in the drier
Have started shrinking
Woops…
zarina binda
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/woops-2/
