It rains to-day.
You always loved the rain--
Glitter of dripping hedge-twigs in the lane,
Wet scents, and skies all grey.
But you are fighting in an alien land
Of scorching heat and sand.
It rains and rains--
The little runnels flow
Fast down the beech-trunks, rippling as they go....
I think of arid plains
And foreign suns like braziers in the blue,
And wonder about you.
