GENTLE RAIN
(Cornick)
I'll love you like the gentle rain
that glistens on the grass
and trickles down my window pane
in patterns on the glass
I hear you in a children's rhyme
of fairy kings and queens
The land of never-never time;
the looking-glass of dreams
I see you in the dawning-light
of morning's waking-glow,
as crimson rays of dyin' night
spill through the land below,
and gentle rain is falling still,
I read your rhyme again,
then sit-up on my window sill
to touch the gentle rain