A Walk In The Rain

She went out walking in the rain, light clouds were showing her the way, her face, a trace of fresh disdain yet she felt happier today. She came upon a bank of weeds they all were gathered linked by leaves last season's small discarded seeds was thriving, mocking callous thieves. What caught her eye was fair and bright a proud Hibiscus, painted gold and in the fading summer's light her head said, grab it, be so bold. The weeds formidable and strong stood, like a Royal Honour Guard, she thought of taking her along perhaps attach a greeting card. That moment, she was reaching for the flower that recalled her past, when from the sky, not Zeus nor Thor sent down a fire storm to blast a careless thief and hand out penance no, it was man made, a small bell, and silence struck the forest's tenants the sound could well have come from Hell. It was his voice, what wondrous timing, he wanted just to hear her say in complex prose or simple rhyming I love you, though she shouted YAY. It was like touching 'cross an ocean impulsive like a toddler's pogo of love's own cobweb of devotion who knows the essence, who the logo? She went home, singing in the rain, a kindly Moon showed her the way. She clutched her flower, so profane it was the happiest, this day.