It's Raining, It's Pouring

It's Raining, It's Pouring

It's raining, it's pouring, The old man is snoring, He went to bed and bumped his head, And couldn't get up in the morning. Tiny raindrops pitter-patter, On window panes that gently clatter. The wind whispers secrets through the trees, Bending branches down with ease. Little puddles gather 'round, Home to worms wiggling on the ground. Birds take shelter under eaves, Chirping softly 'tween the leaves. Flowers drink the rain so sweet, Grass turns emerald at their feet. The world outside gets shiny clean, Washed by nature's gentle sheen. Children watch from window panes, Dreaming of splashing in the lanes. Raindrops race down rooftops high, Leaving streaks across the sky. Maybe tomorrow, when the sun, Chases raindrops on the run, We'll put on boots and raincoats bright, And jump in puddles with all our might!