Drip Drip Drip of the Raindrops

Some folks complain spring does not arrive,
As though the seasons answered to our whim;
Some say it makes them sad to be alive
When sunlight covered by the clouds is dim.
Too often many whine about the dark
And seem to think the clouds should serve their needs,
While others claim cold weather is too stark,
Yearning until some warmer stuff succeeds.
Most huddle under awnings for protection
From what they then disdain up in the sky.
None look upon the damp with much affection;
They say it shouldn't be there and ask why.
I don't care what the weather ought to be;
It's raining, and that's good enough for me.