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A poem by Elizabeth Madox Roberts |
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Little Rain |
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Title: Little Rain Author: Elizabeth Madox Roberts [More Titles by Roberts] When I was making myself a game It fell down quick in a sort of rush, I could hear the big drops hit the ground A chicken came till the rain was gone; He shivered a little under his skin, Even after the rain had begun to hush One big flat drop came sliding down, Was up on a little stem waiting there, [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |