Cold wind slapping tree branches, <br />The moon, frenzied, hidden, wonders when <br />The tempest and the temper will end. <br /> <br />Not yet: a lot more to go. the soldier in the train <br />The tramp in the tunnel, <br />The lone young man in a beige raincoat <br />Hurry along alone. <br /> <br />Then comes the rain, stinging, <br />The wild, wild rain, the cold drops <br />Stinging the eyes, the wind tearing at chimney pots <br />Some tiles will surely fall <br /> <br />The wild, wild rain will come <br />Dropping, dropping, onto the passive ground <br />Dark streets empty, the silence and the rain <br />The silence and the rain <br />Step to a wild, wild dance <br />In the darkened empty lane. <br /> <br />Copyright: Rani Turton<br /><br />Rani Turton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wild-wild-rain/
