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1:45a.m., June 27, 1995
©1995 by Lynn D. Troldahl Hershberger
- Now the roof leaks.
- The soil was dry and parched,
- the farmers prayed for rain.
- I did not.
- There is no such thing as enough summer.
- There is no such thing as too much sun.
- There is nothing like too hot!
- Yet the rain came anyway --
- it didn't ask me!
- Sheets of transparent wetness washed across the city.
- The lawns promised another green day.
- The patter of raindrops lulled us to sleep.
- And I awoke to drip, drip, drip.
- My sunny heaven was instantly replaced by reality.
- A leaky roof knows not the time of day or night.
- A mattress can become a sponge!
- Furniture gets moved quickly with tired muscles.
- Budgets change by moonlight.
- And the gentle patter of the roof is joined
- by the second rhythim of drip, drip, drip; splash, splash.
- Nature disregards sleep.
- Rain ignores the budget.
- The flowers bloom, the grass grows, and I fret.
- Yet no crisis ever has held me back.
- No roof can get the best of me.
- Soon I will slumber in peace once more.
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I would really love to hear from you! Send comments to: Lynn@colorjoy.com