What do children think of when it rains?

It's only water falling from a grey sky
which purple striped umbrellas make
funny in a summer warmth when thin
shirts call awake that slumbering sigh.

Going for a smoke in the wet grass when
lights tend to flicker & deny a needy feed
of the monkey, a graying annoy that now
crashes in a minute by a then pouring sky.

In the blink of an eye a rainbow appears,
split by the pale jagged flash of lightning,
when moments earlier in the black crush
excitements seemed a more pressing joy.

Brushing a ringlet one, two clasping a goldfish,
what do children think of when it suddenly rains?