“The Former Rain,” Ensign, Aug. 1994, 45
Once upon the children’s bedtime
the ark again appeared.
We made it from a cardboard box
and something of good cheer.
All heaven smiled upon our labor
to make a box a boat
and fill it with stuffed animals
and make it fit to float.
And when the animals settled in
the children climbed aboard,
first Shannon, Anna, then little Matt,
as bidden by the Lord.
My wife was lightning, wind, and thunder.
I was howling rain.
We whirled the boat from side to side
as though a weather vane,
and it seemed the children’s laughter,
itself a falling rain,
made a rainbow ‘round the house
to alleviate all pain.
And when the children’s laughter died,
it did not die in vain,
but fashioned love within their eyes
where rainbows yet remain.