Below is a poem by Laurence Dunbar entitled
Rain-Songs
The rain streams down like harp-strings from the sky;
The wind, that world-old harpist sitteth by;
And ever as he sings his low refrain,
He plays upon the harp-strings of the rain.
The wind, that world-old harpist sitteth by;
And ever as he sings his low refrain,
He plays upon the harp-strings of the rain.
So, we gathered in the rain on Saturday and we walked and we talked . Our pace kept time to the swish swash sound coming from our sneakers. Then after breakfast we went our separate ways; warmed by conversation and great companionship. Can’t get better than that.
