A moving mosaic of rain
Fractures the clear window pane
The soft falling rustle
Stills the dry windy hustle
Dust and grime are washed away
Sunlight seeks the break of day
A drift of air moves oe’r the sill
And coffee beckons as coffee will
Cup in hand, the sun feels good
As bare feet toes caress the wood
The finches red, the weavers glow
As guinea fowls their feathers show
Budding trees with knobbly knees
The promise of fruit to come
Lettuce unfurls and spinach curls
While beans begin to run
