"Look, Darling, it's raining!"
Jane guides her daughter's hand out the window.
Her daughter's face warms up,
With laughter... pale,
Like the white flowers,
That line the garden.
"Mother, can we go outside?"
Jane laughs, awestruck:
"Go ahead, Pumpkin."
Her daughter leaps from the window and darts,
Toward the open garden,
Spreading her arms out,
Like a fan, she cried out in joy:
"Mother, you have to come here!"
Jane came outside,
Slipping a hat on her daughter's fair head.
The raindrops fell delicately,
(Ensuring not to hurt the mother and child) on their little heads.
Like a rhythm, she began to predict.
Jane and her daughter played,
Splashed in the rain for thirteen minutes.
"This is the best day of my life, mother."
They heard no pitter-patter of the raindrops,
They felt no drops on their forehead,
They tasted no salty tang of the drops.
She gasped, and Jane's daughter smiled ruefully:
"Well, it's stopped raining, Mary. Let's go in.
You're likely to get a cold."
Jane ushered dear Mary out of the garden,
And into the house.
Mary looked back,
Her heart heavy;
She missed the feeling of dancing in the rain.
Very well, the last sound she heard before,
They slipped into the house was her sneeze.