Writing Poems In The Rain

Words fall from the sky like raindrops,
cool, comforting, fluid and fresh.
They trickle down my brow,
tickling my face as they roll to the tongue.
I hear the splashes of metaphors upon the ground,
similies gathering like puddles
My muse smiles down on me from the gray clouds above,
the silver lining that fills me with inspiration.
Nature is poetry in continuous motion,
giving life to me like the rain to the grass.