Tuesday, September 10, 2013


These raindrops on my window sill
Bring only an empty thrill;
For as it pours down this quiet hill,
Thoughts of you get harder to kill.

Every little drop brings you closer;
Subtle and soft like a silent whisper.
And just as soon I start to falter,
As memories of you grow fonder.

The cold wind eats at my will,
That my cup soon shall surely fill;
Overflowing with your essence until
The rain departs from this quiet hill.

As for now I shall sit and linger;
A captive of mother nature.
Slowly drowning in the water;
Calling your name as I go under.