I wrote this from my window in a burst of passion, while the rain fell to when it stopped. I used lots of "ing"s but I think I'm okay with that. 

 

Come golden hour rain

Trace my small world, very gently

Like graphite on a page

 

Tingling, shimmering, precious rain

Gliding from the heavens 

to meet the earth below

 

Masses of tiny treasures

in this early evening light

Gild the treetops, trace the leaves

 

Till the hour is up

And the clear droplets fall

Muddy, squelching grass, and 

"oh, it rained here before."