Tea Party

The girls and I just finished our weekly poetic tea party.... the poem I read was so lovely that I wanted to share it--and so fitting since we had an evening of rain which has made the whole world outside so lush and green:

Rain Song

It isn't raining rain to me,

It's raining daffodils;

In ev'ry dimpling drop I see

Wildflowers on the hills.

A cloud of gray engulfs the day

And overwhelms the town;

It isn't raining rain to me,

It's raining roses down.

It isn't raining rain to me,

But fields of clover bloom,

Where any buccaneering bee

May find a bed and room.

A health, then, to the happy,

A fig to him who frets;

It isn't raining rain to me,

It's raining violets.

by Robert Loveman