"She Waited Where the Rain Would Fall"

She stood at the bend where the storm liked to play,
A flower in hand, on a grey summer day.
Her eyes searched the mist, her heart beat so slow,
Still waiting for him — the one long ago.

Each drop from the sky marked a moment alone,
As she counted the quiet like echoes of stone.
The world moved around her, yet she would remain,
A soul full of hope beneath layers of rain.

They met when the skies blushed crimson and blue,
Two strangers who suddenly, instantly knew.
His voice was a rhythm that softened her fears,
He danced her through sunlight and wiped off her tears.

He painted with laughter, his smile a spark,
She wore all his verses like jewels in the dark.
They kissed in the corners where twilight would creep,
And made secret promises too sacred to keep.

But destiny spins threads crooked and wild,
And memory fools even the heart of a child.
He left without warning, no plan, no clear sign,
Just scribbled, “Be there — beneath cloud and pine.”

And so she returned, through seasons and years,
With rain in her lashes and silence in tears.
The town watched her wander, a myth in a dress,
But those who have loved don't settle for less.

He traveled through cities, carved out his fame,
Yet every gold stage still whispered her name.
He tried to forget with hands and with wine,
But her voice came back in every line.

No lips could replace what he once had known,
No smile could melt that deep, hollow tone.
Each time he painted, no matter the land,
He saw her again — rose clutched in hand.

He penned her a note that he never could send,
Afraid he’d come back to love at its end.
So silence stood tall, and distance grew vast,
But she stood unmoved, still true to the past.

Then one golden dusk, aged by the years,
The sky cracked open with joy and with tears.
A shadow drew near with cautious steps slow,
And the wind held its breath for what it would know.

He dropped to his knees with a flower so pale,
And whispered, “Forgive me, I followed the trail.”
She smiled like dawn on a frost-covered day,
And reached for his hands with nothing to say.

“You came,” she breathed.
“You stayed,” he replied.
The moment stood still while the world passed them by.

They danced in the rain on the street they once knew,
And strangers who saw them believed it was true:
A woman who waited with fire in her chest,
And a man who returned where his heart found its rest.


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EPILOGUE — in verse

They lived in a cottage where wildflowers grew,
And painted their memories in lavender hue.
She brewed herbal tea that smelled like old June,
He hummed quiet tunes to the light of the moon.

They grew with the seasons, softer with age,
Their laughter a story, their love a new page.
No riches, no titles — just hands intertwined,
And poems they whispered when stars realigned.

And each year in July, when soft rain would sigh,
They’d walk to that road where she'd once stood nearby.
Not waiting for someone, but only to feel,
The truth that when love waits, it always heals.

In the quiet of night when the world held its breath,
They whispered old stories and laughed about death.
For love, they believed, was stronger than time,
More lasting than youth, more honest than rhyme.

The neighbors would say, "They’re magic, those two—
Still dancing in puddles like children do."
But only they knew what silence had cost,
The weight of the years, the ache of the lost.

Still, they'd choose it again — the wait and the ache,
The years spent alone, the hearts that would break.
For what is a life if not for the one,
Who makes even rain feel warm like the sun?

And when autumn arrived with leaves in descent,
They held each other like time never went.
Their love, reborn, kept writing itself—
A quiet forever, untouched by farewell.