Sipping hot tea by the fire, watching raindrops
leave trails on the windowpane;
There she was, walking idly in the rain,
strolling along, not a care in the world.
Here and there they rush around, hunched over to
protect themselves from the icy onslaught;
And there she was, enjoying the feel of cool rain on warm skin,
sticking her tongue out to taste the sky.
The streets are dotted with umbrellas, both young and old
decked out in vibrant and colorful raincoats;
But she, such a silly girl, had want of neither,
lauging instead at the quizzical stares of passersby.
It is warm and dry by the fire, safe and sound
wrapped up in a blanket, so afraid to catch a chill;
She was thoroughly soaked, her clothes sticking to every curve,
leaving so little to the imagination of twisted minds.
She stares out at the throng, all hurrying to some place new,
thinking about the girl she once was;
She skipped in the rain, splashing puddles all the way home,
dreaming of love, romance and Paris.