Puddle-Jumping
Raindrops fall and splat and skitter,
bringing sheen and gloss and glitter.
In my dreams I hear them falling,
try to wake to heed their calling.
When exactly do I know
it’s time to leave my bed and go
outside to splash in rain-filled gutters,
ignoring Grandpa’s warning mutters
that I’ll catch a cold today
if I go outside to play?
He says it’s raining cats and dogs,
but all I find outside are frogs,
proving his idiom a lie
as nothing’s falling from the sky
but rain and blossoms from the tree
that stretches its limbs over me.
I make my way, laborious,
through mud and goo most glorious,
then reach the ditch and wash feet off
in the rushing water trough.
I see Grandpa watching me,
warm and dry and splatter-free.
But then he’s gone, no doubt to see
what’s playing now on the TV.
But, just as it begins to pour,
there’s Grandpa coming out the door!
Barefooted, he jumps in my puddle,
gives my shoulders a warm cuddle,
then repeats the old refrain
that this day is “Right as rain!”
Prompt words today are rain, idiom, skitter, exact, dreams.
Images by Amy Reed and Nicholas Bartos on Unsplash. Used with permission.
Reblogged this on About the Jez of It.
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Thanks, Raven. Glad you liked it.
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My pleasure
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What a lovely poem Judy. So reminiscent of childhood.
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Actually, no adults ever came out to wade with me, but I was known to have waded with the neighbor kids when I was in high school!
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Adults turn cautious!
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What a beautiful poem, Judy. It evokes such great memories of childhood and makes me want to run in the rain on a hot day. ❤ (If only it would rain!)
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Me, too. I’ll meet you at the nearest puddle between us.
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This made me smile 🙂
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A delightful poem I must say
I should barefoot this rainy day.
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