Tin Roof Symphony

When another likely drouthy summer
comes slipping past a too-mild winter.

When fairly skimpy snowpack statistics
back up the fears of old-time mystics.

Nothing makes the range sing stronger
save a good and steady three day soaker
rain playing that tin roof symphony.

A tender "tinka...tinka...linka...tinka...tee"
skips its random music through your heart
conducing peaceful meditations, reveries, and art-
ful emanations to erupt in easy chaos
that somehow finds a fitting purpose
in a drizzle metered mind
that just wants to settle
     and unwind.

How sweetly drinks the earth, the air, your sould
How gently flows the magic liquour
     and How that good green grass
                  GROWS...