It Will Rain Poem by BROWNHILL OBINNA

In the blues, in the valley i sat all alone

blowing sweet smelling sounds of my flute

which echoes through the hills

in harmony with the rush of the spring

then i saw an angel, yes, i am sure

on her face was an immortal smile

her heart aches for love

she sang with the voice of the blues

which lifted grasses like sweet wind

making me feel so cold

i paused for a while, took a walk towards her

then came a storm and a bass voice

like a thunder, so mean and hard

as i turned to her again, i saw her back

in a cloudy sky with no star

then i knew it will rain from her eyes.