Gathering Clouds

On a drizzly morning, I sit here and mourn
‘bout my lingering thoughts that had been worn.
Tears welled unnoticed, while I heaved a sigh,
Silently grouching over how my dreams did die.

Startled and fazed, behind I felt a soft poke,
My son did wake and confusedly he spoke.
“Mama, what’s wrong? Are you tired? Are you sore?
What’s there to do? Can I help with your chore?”

In panic I rise, briskly head out the door,
Placed a tin pail on the earth's damp floor.
“Nothing, Honey!” I said, “Mama’s just gathering rain!”
Intending to conceal all my desolation and pain.

Got plenty more questions, he blinked, he voiced,
“What’s that for? Why are your eyes moist?”
I searched for words to answer and amuse,
“Just saving some, Son! Might be of use!”
A boyish grin he gave and began to think,
As we left for breakfast, he threw me a wink.

A while has fled; The sun did shine,
All is green and above, I see a line.
I know I’ll ache but must surely move on,
I’ll be alright, with my boy I’m not ‘lone.
I wonder from where, a happy tune came,
There’s my son humming, singing an old name.

Curious of him, I dare sneak and ask,
"What are you doing? Are you on task?"
I was taken aback, hearing his reply,
(Silly ole me, forgetting the time did fly,)

Did I just read you a story last night?
Sang a lullaby and kept you from fright?
How then today you’ve grown old and wise?
Wrapping me in hugs while whispering twice,

“Mama, look! The sky is now clear!
I am gathering clouds for you to cheer.
It might be of use to wipe dry your eye,
From the streaks of rain that you did cry!”