RainA Poem by MarkLiving in dry climate with little rain makes one appreciate the few storms that come. I guess that's why I always think of rain as cleansing rather than nuisance.I'll hold my hands up high and bless the clouds. I'll bare my soul to wash, when the rains come. Cold and comfort clean and clear Pure and vital when the rains come. To wipe the dust away, to make clean and new, bringing crystalline clear, when the rains come. Wash my soul, cleanse my mind. Start me over, When the rains come When the rains come.
© 2012 MarkReviews
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4 Reviews Added on April 14, 2012 Last Updated on April 14, 2012 AuthorMarkDallas, TXAboutI"m a gypsy born in New Hampshire, raised in Alaska, schooled in Washington, raised a family in California. Recently settled in Concord NH area. Where to next? I don't really have to think about it, i.. more..Writing
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