Rain

As I lay my head,
I hear the gentle keys of a typewriter,
playing softly,
minor chords,
and through the mottled bottle pane,
millions of silver pencil lines,
are firing down to earth,
stroke after stroke,
quiver after quiver,
so very efficient,
so we run outside,
in bare feet and barely a care,
but our hands are simply not big enough,
to catch all these splendid pearls,
so we open our mouths and ah..,
letting the cool free fall,
kiss our cracked faces,
of four decades and counting.

If every rainfall writes a romance,
does every umbrella shelter a lonesome soul,
if each droplet were a weeping heart,
then saviour what may bloom next spring,
patience is the time between notes,
between heartbeats,
between love and hurt,
but so hard is self belief,
when all you have are broken rainbows,
we close our eyes,
we close our eyes to feel,
we close our eyes to be,
we close our eyes when we’re together,
when we are alone,
I hold you in my head,
but is it strong enough to carry you,
you are lighter with patience,
greater with time,
my eyes will tell you,
they always do,
always will.