Slow, Slow Rain

There is a slow, slow rain
Falling in the night.
I hear its rushing
Wall of sound
My mind,
Full of thoughts,
Of you.
My love, my love,
What are you dreaming of,
My love?
What occupies you?
Your thoughts?
Never you mind
Me or ignoring the sound
Of my lips, rushing
You to forget the night
Or our slow, slow rain.

Posted in Perspective, Poetry