IT IS NOT RAINING RAIN TO ME
It is not raining rain to me,
It is raining daffodils.
In every dimpled drop I see
Wild flowers on distant hills.
The clouds of gray engulf the day
And overwhelm the town.
It is not raining rain to me,
It is raining roses down.
It is not raining rain to me,
But fields of clover bloom
Where any buccaneering bee
May find a bed and room.
A healthy unto the happy
A fig for him who frets!
It is not raining rain to me,
It is raining violets.