Plink Plank

This word reminds me of a poem my Grandma Joye wrote.  She used to read it to me, every time I was at her house and it rained.  Truthfully, I didn’t mind the rain there so much.  It was a great opportunity to sit on her big covered front porch in the swing.  I still always sleep best when the rain sings me a lullaby.

It was so dark when I arose

I didn’t need to look to see

The Rain remains, and I suppose

Another day is lost for me.

 

Sometimes, to spend a day inside

Can be the greatest thing to do.

A time to think and dream or hide

From duties somewhere calling you.

 

As grudgingly I settle down

And try to concentrate and think

Through dreary thoughts there comes a sound

A dancing, happy, snappy “plink.”

 

I’ve chosen the remotest place

Where there should be no noise real soon

But tiny raindrops on the flu

Plink, plank a spanking brand new tune.

 

Softly, tiny gentle drops

Were brining me their melody

Delightful and refreshing plops –

In dancing, rain-time harmony.

 

Each one has gone to so much pain

To leave such happy note so free.

I’m heading straight out in the rain

So they can play “Plink, plank” with me

 

-Joye Kanelakos

‘Til next time,

Jessica