A rainy day

His long gown moved here and there with the wind,

Was the man with the pimply face named limp,

Suddenly, the black rainy clouds started taking shape,

People started whizzing back to their homes,

Wearing dusty clothes and long patchy capes,

A few drops of rain dropped

Rinsing the fresh barley cropped

With little sunshine penetrating through the black clouds

And, blustering with thunder sounds,

Shining with the rain droplets were the amber domes.

Everyone along with their families hid in their homes,

But, the man named limp,

stood still obstructing the high winds,

gazing at the crops getting watered by nature,

writing notes for his new literature.