Unbrollied

The pleasure

Of hot

Weather.

Knowing not

Whether

The rain will come.

A cloud burst.

Relieves a thirst.

The rain does run.

But the pleasure

Of hot, wet weather

Soon is done.

And the wise,

Gazing into a stranger’s eyes,

Know that ’tis folly

To forget a brolly.

Yet, they still thirst

For the cloud to burst.

And the pleasure

Of hot wet weather

On unbrollied skin.

So take the rain in.