A Nice Night for a Picnic in the Rain

When the premier set us free

To foregather in the park 

With undiminished glee

We picnicked in the dark.

Why not, said we

Though it be wet,

Who knows where or when

We’ll next be met?

Friends we’ve been 

Friends remained, 

Friends long unseen

Joyful though it rained.

Weeks, months, more than a year,

And the plague still it rages

All tremble, all fear,

Every one of us ages –

Greyer now, more wrinkled,

But green still in feeling

We cared not it sprinkled

Rain-dancing, reeling

The rain that falls as well 

On sinner as on saint,

Washed us nice and clean

As a bright new coat of paint.

Raindrops in the soup

Rainfall on the spud

It dampened not our group

Seated in the flood.

As if beneath a roof

We dined through the night

Wine-warmed in spite –

In friendship waterproof.