Midsummer Nights!

The sweetest rain comes down in June
As if by heaven it was sent
In an effort to show the Moon
How precious liquids should be spent,
A lack, humbling her arid globe
Above the downward coursing drops
Required for a frontal lobe
And its Abundantia crops...
Which make this orb the greatest place
In every spun galactic arm
To watch a gloaming raindrop trace
A tree leaf for a good luck charm
Which hydrates all the things we need
From apple root to Zinnia seed.