The lashing rain

Then, it started,
and down it came,
in torrents and torrents
the lashing rain.
The pebbles dashed,
the windows splashed,
and little currents
careered down steep lanes.

And still it came,
yet harder to tame,
in torrents and torrents
the lashing rain.
The flood plains flashed,
the river banks thrashed,
and meandering currents
made up the lanes.

And on, the same,
with yet more disdain,
in torrents and torrents
the lashing rain.
In vain came the sun,
through clouds on the run,
But thunderous torrents
resumed, no refrain.

With force renewed
the wheelie bins flew,
in mounds of detritus
the litter was strewn,
And sinking, alas,
amid plastic bags,
the boughing branches
and flora were slewn.

And stronger, again,
the river's tirade,
in torrents and torrents
amid climate change.
The lashing thuds
and flashing floods
forever may claim
from men their terrain.

The wise person builds
their house on the rock,
alluvium plains
will never stand the rain.
But rock and sand
may well be the same
as the winds batter on
while the climate talks stagger.