Shakespeare, Soaked

To see a Shakespeare play we three were bound:

My mother, brother, and age-fifteen me.

But at the outdoor theater, we found

'Twould our own Comedy of Errors be.

The play's beginning was delayed a while,

For lightly raining was the summer sky.

Then fin'lly, out the actors all did file.

We laughed so hard I thought that I might cry.

At intermission, rain fell like cement.

A cancellation, we feared it'd presage.

But, underneath a picnic-blanket tent,

We saw umbrellas open on the stage.

The Comedy of Errors--aptly named.

That night lives in my fam'ly lore in fame.