Soft streaks across my window pane,
staccato flowing gentle rain.
In plump chintz chair I sit and stare,
at hymnal songs of nature's prayer.
I watch to see it pluck at strings,
of crocheted webs the spider brings.
She scuttles with her eggs on back,
and fights to keep pearl threads intact.
The happy face of lilies bent,
harken to this wet descent.
They sway beneath the gray clouds gloom,
merry waltzing stems in bloom.
Contented sigh, I peer the sky,
as jumbled clouds go stumbling by.
I then attend a mystery book,
safe snuggled in my cottage nook.