I like the way the syllable count forces language, creates opportunity for new thinking. Today’s prompt from Ethical ELA asked writers to come up with a line of a poem and continue with poem using the same number of syllables in each line. As I walked the beach this morning, I kept thinking about the monsoonal moisture promised by the weather forecasters–and the fact that I know it won’t result in the rain we need so much. I found myself obsessed with rain as I walked, counting syllables in my head. Here’s the resulting draft and the beautiful sky last night that fueled today’s obsessive thinking.
Summer Rainless Song
A pitty pat pat
the sound I don’t hear
except in my dreams
water all around
but not on the ground
Monsoonal moisture
parched earth, cloud-filled skies
precipitation
promised rainfall – gone!
no pitty pat pat
Tinderbox of fear
drought-dried brush, fire fuel
inferno rages
in my brain, waiting
wishing for the sound
And the smell of rain
pitter patter pat
living in dryness
monsoonal moisture
waiting for rain
Thinking Through My Lens 
Your poem has a rhythm that matches the repetition of pitter pitter pat. Rain is rarely in short supply in our area of the world but when the summer gets hotter than Hades, we wish for rain. I pray you get yours soon.
Something always about rain that makes for poetry .. the waiting for it, the walking in it, the wishing it might end, the rhythm of it .. it’s a powerful sense of wonder ..
Kevin
so true…and in our case here in SoCal, the lack of it!