There is nothing as relaxing as a walk under the Spring rain in a garden.

In a garden kissed by rain on a warm spring day,
Petrichor whispers, inviting one to stay.
Silver droplets dangle like jewels on each leaf,
A tapestry of green, embroidered in brief.
The roses blush deeper, beneath skies so gray,
Their petals hold droplets, in a dancer's splay.
Footsteps gentle on the wet, mossy path,
As each raindrop punctuates nature's own laugh.
Lilies sway gently, in soft, rhythmic grace,
Raindrops patter a tempo, their own tender embrace.
A symphony of colors, vivid against the dim,
Each hue sings a verse, a rain-soaked hymn.
Warm breezes carry scents of earth and bloom,
Intertwining, rising, dispelling any gloom.
This garden in the rain, a sanctuary so mild,
Where one walks the paths, nature's beguiled child.