GRACE
Ever so gingerly, I attempt to explain
Why you must never go out in the rain.
For it's teatime now and we must sip our tea,
And nibble our crumpets, just you and me.
How about Parcheesi or a game of chess?
You’re tired of them both you must confess.
I take up my thimble and I stitch a fine seam.
Your eyes are faraway from me, lost in a dream.
The little fire sputters, then sparks a small flame.
Blue china gleams silent to the sound of the rain.
Sonorously the clock chimes, then ticks again.
Sandy-eyed, I'm nodding, but suddenly then,
Like a bolt, you are gone, just a slam of the door!
I'm jarred from my reverie, and what's more,
I leap from my cushion and charge outside.
You're dancing in the rain, not trying to hide,
That you're splashing in puddles without a care,
With the silvery rain glistening everywhere,
On your dripping hair and sopping wet clothes!
Outrage evaporates, and Heaven knows
This instant will always be etched in gold
For I bent . . . and in bending, the truth be told,
A new world is born I never have known.
In the glory of this moment the seeds are sown
Of new life and hope and another chance.
I laugh to the rain as I whirl and dance!