...But I Like Rain
At my present rate of musings on the natural surroundings, rainy days and sunny, etc. come in repeatedly. Yet since they're mixed with other reflections are they any more tolerable? I dread a silent response....but.
(sonnet # CCCLVI)
There's solace somehow in the grey forlorn,
As whether light's effects or fair romance
Entwine to make the dismal sing? Enhance
Just where the soul half searching comfort mourns,
And finds what might console, so subtly bourne
In faint sweet rosy blushes' trim perchance;
In streets' surreal-tinged mien; e'en the expanse
Of sodden stript trees' varied hues ne'er scorns.
Late Autumn's heavens often o'ercast by
The wand'ring racks give way anon to rains;
Ere Winter's chill create bright snow to fly
In flutt'ring daintiness all round; whose strains
Of chastity have cheer, their pureness nigh
Exquisite; yet above the show'rs refrains?