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Who stole those golden rays of sun
     And sent us rain instead?
And who has sent those drops of rain
     To fall upon my head?

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Who ordered that those dark black clouds
     Should hide that sky of blue?
I know for certain it’s not me - - 
     But think it must be . . . . . you!!

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We grumble when the rain comes down
      Instead of being glad,
But without the rain we’d have no food
     And things would be quite bad.

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There’d be no water in our taps,
     And tell me what we’d drink?
So a dry old world, without our rain,
     Would be terrible I think.

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We’d look out on a desert world –
      No flowers or trees in sight –
And I think we’d pray for rain to come
     And put our world to rights.

Copyright on all my poems

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