Rain, rain go away

This has been a morning after a night of too much rain, which seems to have washed away the words, so I yield the balance of my time to Mr. Robert Frost:

“The rain to the wind said,
You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged–though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”

Let’s plan to meet back here tomorrow and try again.