by Sandra Conner
I am a raindrop.
I'm looking for a place to plop.
I'm falling quickly and cannot stop.
I don't know where I'd like to be,
But I def'nitely don't want to land in the sea.
You see, if I were to land in the sea,
It would be so anti-climactic for me.
I would lose my personal identity;
Even I would no longer recognize me.
No, I must find someplace solid instead.
Perhaps on a daisy in a flower bed.
Or a plant so parched it's almost dead,
Or the page of a book that's being read.
I must decide as fast as I can.
I'm falling quickly toward some folks on the sand.
So many are out there just getting a tan.
Hello there, little bald-headed man.
His head sure was tempting, but then a breeze blew
And drove me off course; what am I to do?
Oh, I see it! I see it! My target's in view!
Get ready! Get ready! I'm landing on you!
Plop!
© 2011 Sandra Conner
