The Petrichor

Dancing in the rain,
The rhythm relieves the pain,
For crystals, I always fain,
Environment is very vain.

All plants and trees dance in Triumph,
The view of glittering toph,
A tot making boat from bumph,
Lovely rainbow, droplets trimorph.

Nothing quite the rain smell,
The earthly scent just mell,
Feeling with a hot soup in the Dell,
Creates a connection for skell.

Smell of waiting paid off,
Old books, makes nostalgic tip off,
In regard I always doff,
The Petrichor makes me fly off.