When it Rains

These days it doesn’t just rain, its torrential! The city is flooding, the villages are flooding and well if you don’t take time to look at the other side of the coin, the situation is rather depressing. I wrote a poem a few years ago, reflecting what my children and I like to do when it rains. I think this is a good time to share it.

When it Rains

I love to sleep in when it rains,
My bed is so snug in a storm,
The splash of the rain,
On the window pane,
As I snuggle in bed it’s so warm.

The thunder so loud in the storm,
Flashes of lightening streaks,
Raindrops I hear,
All crystal clear,
Like a musical drama it speaks.

The sound of the storm slowly dies,
Nature’s orchestra comes to a close
The patter pat goes,
The wind still blows,
It’s time to get up I suppose.

© Christina Sempebwa 2004

My cat and the rat

I sat with my cat,
and put on my hat.
I looked for Coach Pat,
to give me a bat.

He was chasing a rat.
It ran under the mat.
Oh it was fat!
The rat, not Coach Pat.

“Chase him dear cat,
the rat, not Coach Pat.
It’s under the mat,
where I had sat.”

“Come on” said Coach Pat
“Use your bat,
help chase the rat,
it’s under the mat!”

I looked at my bat,
and the mat now flat.
Where was the rat?
And where was my cat?

“They’ve gone” said Coach Pat,
“The rat and your cat.
Play ball with your bat.
I’ll watch from the mat.”

© Christina Sempebwa 2004