Poem for her 30

Dear Readers,



Sunday Mornings in the Rain

It isn't her favorite kind of weather
But better rain than ice
We would be inside
No driving on a rainy day
Hard to do picnics too
So we'd be snuggled up talking
Or drawing on something
My back with her finger
A flower we saw recently
A story about something
Told only to her
Mornings in the rain
Turn to afternoons
Then evenings
If we can a warm fire
If not hot tea, hot soup
Staying snuggled together
Any time it rains


Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles