Sudden Shower

Black grows the southern sky, betokening rain,
And humming hive-bees homeward hurry bye:
They feel the change; so let us shun the grain,
And take the broad road while our feet are dry.
Ay, there some dropples moistened on my face,
And pattered on my hat--tis coming nigh!
Let's look about, and find a sheltering place.
The little things around, like you and I,
Are hurrying through the grass to shun the shower.
Here stoops an ash-tree--hark! the wind gets high,
But never mind; this ivy, for an hour,
Rain as it may, will keep us dryly here:
That little wren knows well his sheltering bower,
Nor leaves his dry house though we come so near.
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sojourning crow said...

cool blog, or rather cool choice of subject for a blog.

Nomad said...

An apt poem for a day under a capricious sky; the trees in leaf have been kindly shelters.
'Dropples' is lovely! It conveys not just what they are but also something of the feeling they have on one's face.