The night is dark. 

The works is sleeping. 

I sit by the glowing embers 

Of a once roaring fire. 

They sizzle and crack. 

It sounds almost like a song, 

A lonely song

Awaiting a reply. 

As I sit and listen, 

A light rain begins to fall. 

The tiny raindrops,

Pattering all around, 

Create another tune, 

One to answer that of the lonely fire. 

Together, 

They patter and crackle. 

They sizzle and splash. 

These sounds, 

So sad when alone, 

Become a joyous symphony when together.

Hours it seemed, 

I sat and listened to them, 

But all good things 

Must come to an end.

When the rain died away, 

The embers returned to singing their song, 

Their sad, lonely song,

Awaiting a reply.