“Rain is forecast for the foreseeable future.”

We shall peer through spattered windows
at the grey-white sky
dumping its load into our day
and say “Bloody raining again!”

All dismal, dripping, dank and dark:
A wet and whinging walk
Or windscreen wipers whipping back and forth
Or squashed in steaming busses.

A wave of discontent and rivers rise
Sending the ducks to float across the paths
And water seeping into our nests
Through leaky roofs and under doors.

Further afield the harvests fail
and famine claims the weak and parched
and all is dry and cracking open.
“Send us your rain!”

What can we do? Rejoice at all our moisture?
Welcome wetness and delight in damp?
We can at least be generous and say:
“Please have some!”