It’s hot, it’s humid, I’m melting like clay,
Yet you arrive, dear Rain, in your moody cliché.
Not a downpour, not a storm with flair,
Just a fussy drizzle with wind in your hair.

You flirt with the leaves, you tickle the trees,
You whisper sweet nothings on balconies’ knees.
A puddle here, a ripple there,
You dance like you’ve got secrets in the air.

My tea goes cold while I gaze like a loon,
At clouds throwing tantrums just past noon.
The air is fizzy, like soda gone flat,
Still, the breeze pats my cheeks like a consoling cat.

It’s muddy, it’s messy, the laundry won’t dry,
Yet something inside lets out a content sigh.
Is it the petrichor? The frogs in tune?
Or that mad little gust that kissed my saloon?

Oh Rain, you tease — so distant, so near,
You bring in nostalgia and mosquitoes, my dear.
Yet I wait, umbrella in hand, coffee in cup,
For your next tantrum — I’ll drink it all up.

#RainyDayVibes

#MonsoonMusings

#DrizzleDiaries

#FizzyWeatherFeels

#CloudKissed

#BalconyThoughts

#CupOfCalm

#HotHumidHopeful

#PetrichorLove