Rain Pain

Rains seem to inspire
poems by the dozen
But I, for one,
fail to see the reason.

A season that brings mosquitoes,
scorpions and ugly toads,,
how can such a weather ever
inspire such heavenly odes?

Rains are more of a nuisance,
unpredictable, and full of stinks.
But, then, poets always write
of the most useless things!

Each menacing black cloud,
every thunderclap so loud,
leaves me in no doubt
of what a show-off nature is
but, I refuse to be impressed by this!
(Clouds that thunder, do not rain
and those that do are such a pain!)

Its presence necessitates, at least,
an umbrella or a raincoat
that doesn't really keep one dry
but surely adds to the load!

Water, water everywhere
on the land and in the air.
the entire surrounding terrain
seems to acknowledge rain's reign.
the puddles and the ditches
are rain's victory niches.

Every splash from the puddled roads,
every mud-stain on the clothes
every rotting apple and bean
is a point in favour of the monsoon team.

The summer-parched trees
in need of rain...?
Ask them how they like
to be drowned in the same!

O Rain, please abdicate
I will not hear your dictate
You may be important,
necessary too,
but that doesn't mean
I have to like you!

I don't find you all that strong,
and correct me if I am wrong -
wetting the driveway
and drenching each plant,
what can the rains do
that my hose-pipe can't?!