Two people stand close together in the rain, far from everyone else, and the speaker treats the moment as something almost sacred. The short, clipped lines read like quiet instructions: stay near, stay still, rest your head on a shoulder. The stars seem to dance overhead while the sky pours down water, and the cold makes them shiver and move closer.
Then comes a small warning: "Beware, / Don't touch." The poem seems to say that relationships themselves "aren't much," meaning labels and obligations count for less than the feeling underneath. What matters is love on its own, which gives smiles and a kind of wealth. The ending makes this clear with a comparison to rubies and jewels, which are worth nothing next to the person being addressed. The mood is hushed, tender, and a little playful, like a private moment where the rest of the world has dropped away.