Whenever It Is Raining

Whenever it is raining I think of far away
I think of stormy mornings and evenings cool and gray
I hear the little dipper sing in the flooded rill
And see the rain clouds gathering above the bracken hill.

Whenever it is raining I hear the robin sing
Upon the budding sycamore in the early days of spring
And water from the guttering down pipe goes slurping down the drain
My thoughts are always far away whenever I hear rain.

Whenever it is raining I see the damp gray fog
Make everything invisible as it creeps across the bog
And I hear the cow bellow for hay by the old cypress tree
Whenever it is raining the past returns to me.

Whenever it is raining I hear the dog fox cry
On the high field beside the hill as darkness cloaks the sky
On a windy evening in late november out searching for a mate
The natural desire in him is strong that urge to re-create.

Whenever it is raining my thoughts go far from here
And hills in miles far distant again to me seem near
And I can hear the robin piping sweetly in the rain
And places once familiar I visit them again.