The sound of soft rain
In countless silver droplets
Glides down the window pane
Stirring memories of carefree times
When the soul was young
Oh to dream those dreams again!
Would it take away all the pain
Stored in the broken heart?
Could the wounded heart start to tick
With the same neat beat it pulsed
Before it got so sick?
The sound of soft rain
Brings back the charm
Of innocent days
When the child kneels down
By the bed and prays
Believing God above will
Protect her from all harm
Ah the sound of soft rain
When darkness descends
Countless silver droplets
Leave a stain on the window pane…
© irina dimitric 2013
Irina's Poetry Corner 
Bittersweet and beautiful.
Tank you, Anita. Bittersweet like life!
Haunted and haunting, Irina.
Thanks, Magi, for visiting my blog. So nice to hear from you. I’m following your fabulous ‘Death Café’ stories on Ann’s blog. What a treat!