Wednesday, 19 June 2019

Damp

The rain falleth sideways when wind bloweth west
It falleth straight downward when wind is at rest
It falleth at night on the cold desert sand
And it falleth in circles when tornadoes land

The rain, it monsooneth in jungles back east
It stormeth, tempesteth and never hath ceased
In Yorkshire I’m told, in the land of warm brew
It raineth that fine rain what soaketh ye through

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