A WHISPER TURNING BOLD

The wind picks up, a whisper turning bold,
And fat raindrops, like stories yet untold,
Fall from the heavens, drumming on the leaves,
A symphony of nature, nature that grieves.

The orchard sighs, its branches dripping wet,
She takes a breath, the air with musk is set.
The rain descends, a curtain silver-bright,
Washing the world in shades of fading light.

Her dress of blue, the color of the sky,
Glistens with rain, a teardrop from on high.
She laughs, the sound a tinkling autumn be