My four year old comes up to me,
And asks me if it's gonna rain.
No cloud in the sky does there be,
'No rain right now, ' I do explain,
'Is there a reason that you ask? '
'I bet the flowers need a drink.'
I figure he could do that task.
'Where is my water can? ' I think.
But before I finish that thought,
My son has his own way no doubt,
As I see in his hand he's got
The rain maker that he's pulled out.
'I'm firing rain, ' says my young son,
And squirts me with his water gun.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem