Children delight in a spring storm.
Running out; the door swinging behind,
“It's sprinkling they chime!”
Standing with arms stretched wide,
Catching the rain as they splash and slide.
Lifting heavenward, each little face.
Drinking the raindrops as they race.
Spinning in the rain, they smile.
Marching through puddles single file.
Their joy's so real; lifting hands to heaven,
Loving and reveling in this wet gift given.
Eyes sparkling; raindrops glisten in their hair.
Joy, contagious to all who see them there.
It's just a shower here and gone.
But they're not sad, not a one.
For now, there are mud-pies to entertain.
No more thoughts of sprinkling rain.
Intent they mix and stir their brew
an ancient child-worn stew
Then the sun comes out to kiss each flower.
And muddy cherubs need another sort of shower!