With a chance of rain
This creeper is all over me!
It's like red but not quite
Keep falling on my emerald foliage
Spread your wings and fly!
Singing in the Rain
Clinging to the Threshold
Wanna come in?
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,--
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.
by John Keats