Featuring:) Giorgio V.
She writes about Fall's beauty in the rain
The falling raindrops' dance ascribing thence
Bespoken verse that lightens her refrain
before the time they met - her steps commence.
She listens to the soft and rhythmic thrum,
her love turned to escape and cloudy string
Where nimbus mistletoe fell, tears to become
Their kiss of Autumn was symbolic ring.
The first light cotton mists with summer rays
While skyward cheerful laughs adorn the land,
their ceremonial dance diffuses grays,
affectionate embrace, where dreams expand.
Upon September's sky the raindrops gleam
With half of hidden Sun to laugh and beam.
Enjoy the FRAGRANCE OF RAIN
~A Poet Destroyer Collaboration~
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
Chaotic rain divulges errantly
how can this be God's poetry
it plunders like a tsunami
the Devil's masterpiece
How can this be mercy
torrent waters surge
floods creating oceans
Each rain drop becomes louder
caught in the line of fire
no escaping the bullets
tranquil peace destroyed
Peaceful melodies are lost
storms reflect unpleasant music
senseless evil heavy metal lyrics
no purpose - shouting and screaming
Doused, drenched, engulfed
suffocating - soaking strain
where is Noah and his Ark?
Will this barricade conclude
The Silent One
7 January 2016
Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016
Falling so hard for you
beat will not wane
dark blue nights dreary cold
ran down your street
to see if you were home
tapped on your pane
come feel my soft touch
dance on bare feet!
Written by : Kelly Deschler August 19th, 2015
Nette Onclaud's contest - "Visual of a Verso"
(We were asked to categorize our poems as rhyme, but mine is also a personification.)
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015
In an open field of endless, noiseless distance,
Rolling clouds cast an impending gloom;
A welcomed and promised darkness descends.
My eyes shut as I breathe in the aroma,
In anticipation of
The cleansing that quickly approaches.
I cloak myself in the breeze, as it promises a release..
The cool wind, calming, so gently serene...
Sweeping over my overheated skin.
Finally, the fury is perfectly unleashed down upon me.
The winds, gusting in a frenzied rush
My hair whipping haphazardly around,
Stinging at my face.
I smirk toward the sky, as I silently, but eagerly
Await the onslaught -
This desperate release that I longed for in secret.
It sought me out, and found me.
I hear the angry sounds
The roaring, begging to weep alongside me.
When suddenly, the violent tears begin to fall
With a sudden, breathtaking destructiveness.
The thunder, like me, cries out in pain,
With such sadness, angry liquid bathing the parched earth.
It saturates my face, my body drenched.
As I stand in the midst of the deluge, in awe,
Crashing winds attempt to destroy me,
But cannot find the strength.
Until the tears eventually run dry,
The painful clashes and cries become silent..
The skies yield to light, as the great and
Terrible sun demands to be seen.
I open my tear-stained eyes,
And glimpse a different world before me...
Cleansed and made new.
And I cannot understand, nor
Fathom the reality...
Of the beautifully, perfect
Copyright © Shirlee Rincon | Year Posted 2014
Slate gray streets made even darker by cutting raindrops
Umbrellas popping up everywhere, people seeking shelter
But I stayed put, wanting to get drained with the rain,
then I hear this tinkling voice that says, “Don’t you just love it when it rains?!”
I look at her wearily and her eyes actually gleam with laughter
Oh geez, this lady was my total opposite. I was brooding, she was brimming.
I power-up my go away vibes, but she was like a darned magnet…
Was I the ferromagnetic one, or was she?
She gushed on the metaphor of rain in her life, and I didn’t feel like drowning.
Listening to her amidst the onslaught was so refreshing, making me thirstier…
There we were, two drenched souls, sitting on the pavement, chatting up a storm.
Of all her descriptions of rain, one in particular stood out for me…
Pearl drops strung on silver strands …
She said, “Rain for me would be silver strands streaking an otherwise somber sky…
pearl drops strung on silver strands, broken by the heavens to share with us.
See how precious it is?” Then she continued on with the metaphor for pearls…
Her words felt like windshield wipers to me, and I could see clearly now
By then, the rains had softened, and a lone pearl drop landed on her eyelashes
-that made me look closer at her eyes… her beautiful, wise, yet cloudy eyes…
I have never looked at rain the same way since then.
For Andrea's and Susan's Silver Strands contest
Copyright © binibining P.iNk | Year Posted 2011
I love to feel the
wind on my face,
bask in the warmth
of the sun’s embrace;
But as light misty rain
touches my skin
in divine delight
I go within...
The wind becomes
an internal force.
The sun enters my heart
on its warm course,
But rain endeavors
to keep me whole
and helps to sustain
my very soul.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
Spilling ink onto paper,
fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.
Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,
scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.
My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,
your bare back my canvas,
my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.
lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,
my fingers tickle your soft skin,
my ink would run dry,
were it not for your gentle touch
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Clouds full to the brim
Dancing footfalls jingle down
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
The wind rushes through the valley
whispering your name.
Autumn trees begin to release their leaves
reluctantly, trying to hold on to summer.
I see your reflection in droplets of rain,
I share your joys, and feel your pain, yet
you have moved on without a thought of
what we once shared that summer so long ago.
As the crisp air and rain touches my face
all those memories tend to cascade. . .
flooding my mind and nearly drowning me.
Blue is my mood and my chosen hue that
lays to rest happier times in the summer sun,
in the clear cool lake, under the trees in your arms.
I, now in my autumn years, and feeling so much
like those lovely trees, reluctantly let go.
© August 24, 2013
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2013
Written May 31, 2013
The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade
A cosmic dance where stars collide
The kids and parents run to hide
Shelter from the enemy above
Who light up the sky with lightning bugs
The land is dark and the sky is black
Mothers pray the birds will not come back
Be it by barren land or vicious sea
Lord just hear our plea
The sun does rise
Over silver ships sailing in the sky
Rain on down on our parade
In a concrete jungle
The kids come out to play
Masked by this dreadful masquerade
Copyright © Brandon Carter | Year Posted 2013
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2013
(Dedicated to Folake)
Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.
Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.
May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.
Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.
Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.
Copyright © Onis Sampson | Year Posted 2013
A thorough yield
On a farm field of far east
It took me time to realize
How far I am to my far east of coast
Call of my weather
Call of my winds
I sailed further and farther
To my naked coasts
Naive songs, Nimble rains
Nile of rivers, Nascent clouds
Reaching this far
I kissed my earth
Ground of my grief
Glory of my ghosts
Glad is those leaves
However scanty they are
Cast is my shadows
No longer they hide
My colors and my figures
They cast numbers on stars
Measure their light
Scope my winters
Scale my summers
Scanty my rains
Scuttle I wish my springs
Now let me see my greens
Their leveling heights
Their leafy gaze
Their spiderly gesture
Their primordial texture
Now let me be slow
In company of my greens
#Poem by +Gokul Alex
Copyright © Gokul Alex | Year Posted 2013
And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth
I stand among the reeds in the basin
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
In the vast plain sits the panthera tigris
The largest among the cat species
Beautiful in black striped orange fur
Fierce, the tiger howls but seldom purr
A splendor that commands attention
Elegant long limbs gentle in its motion
She is feared for the span of her length
She is fearless, they knew her strength
In the cruel jungle where she lives
The sun shines but it always retreats
Lush greens turn into muddy sprouts
A cue on what the sky is about to spout
She listlessly walked back and forth
An action perceived to show her worth
Yet the tiger was in fear of the brewing rain
Waters from heaven brings back all the pain
However fierce, the tiger is not without fear
Mostly for her fold she holds very dear
She dreads the storm will havoc damage
When it pours its ceaseless cascades
While the tempest ravages her world
The tiger firmly stands in the freezing cold
Though this will cease just like before
She feels she cannot take it anymore
When from the rain she was saved
By a fellow cat who is more than brave
Scarred and lashed by many a storm
The lion offered hope, she gave her home
Yet the rain brings the tiger more fear
Protective of the lion she loved so dear
She knows tomorrow is never promised
She has to be strong, she can conquer this!
Copyright © Meadow Morada | Year Posted 2016
Rain, if you were warm I would dance in you,
I would be like the breeze and whip around you
Rain, since you are cold I'll stay away from you
Its such a bummer cause I want to play with you.
Thoughts of running through the rain with you
Makes my heart go insane for you
I'll hold your hand and slow dance with you
Alone in the grassy meadow just me and you
What would I give to beat along with you
Dripping on the tin shed of the roof with you
Making sweet music on the wind chimes with you
Wet and soft on a blanket in the fields with you
Rain, I'd spend the entire night with you
Enjoying the touch and feel of you
No looking back when I'm with you
Rain oh how I would love to dance in you
Rain how intense is that storm the comes with you
The thunder and lightening that stays with you
Its okay because I still want to change with you
Rain oh how I want to become one with you.
Date: 5/25/2014 11:41:00 PM
This poem is not so good. It is like a dramatic monologue. Be more poetic this is supposed to be a poem. Yikes!
Copyright © CT Duet | Year Posted 2014
SHE moves with grace, like one in love
with love itself and all that’s lush;
and when the mythic sprites above
unloose her from the morning's blush,
she descends like the milk-white dove
with the notes of a singing thrush.
With golden locks, as light as air,
and liquid, limpid eyes most blue,
none is like her or can compare
to her beauty and lovely hue
which lift the humble souls that dare
come to her for her balmy dew.
As wind and air Nymph and a muse
with the nimbused crest of a saint
which no man can therefore refuse
or with mean words tarnish or taint,--
hence let all Creatures freely choose
to honor her without constraint.
1.) Ngoc Nguyen; 2.) Nature motif; 3.) for "Impress me II ! ( Old/New )" Contest
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013
whose bony fingers
stretched above gloved branches,
you danced in the sunlight,
for scampering squirrels
and gifts of birdhouse rings.
whose springtime blossoms
for make-believe weddings,
you caught up children
and hugged them tightly
in games of hide and seek.
I run my fingers
along your weeping scars
where Earth’s fury tore
your hand from mine.
I have less air to breath.
Copyright © Rachel Kovacs | Year Posted 2013
A rain drop was falling from the sky,
Recalling its days in the high.
How proud had it been,
While scorning the green,
Now, falling back again,
Knew this drop of rain,
All the pride of being of sky,
The days of soaring high,
Were all too small,
Like a lie.
Ground was upon which it could rely.
Where at last,in peace could die.
Copyright © Sulakshana Bhattacharya | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
My Wishes are Simple
My wishes are simple,
my desires few,
to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.
My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,
to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.
My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,
my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,
healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
Thank you for crying for me today
My tears are sometimes an expression
of the powerlessness I feel
Through my tears I release my sadness, my fears
and find answers
I am all thought out
Too tired to cry the hard tears
or softly weep myself to sleep
so thank you for crying for me today
You pound hard into the earth
As though mixing an antidote of gladness
to overcome my sadness
I hear you tapping rhythmically and methodically against my windowpane
message in code "Don't worry", "Don't worry" you say
You rain softly as my sadness and fears fade
And I begin to find new meaning
Copyright © Janine Robinson | Year Posted 2014
I make haste to the earth
And anoint its rebirth
When my mother, the cloud, is above,
And then mildly caress
The irradiant dress
Of the hills with immaculate love.
I descend upon leas
And respond to their pleas
When they pine for my kiss in their thirst;
Then I nourish with ease,
As they flow to the seas,
All the rivers whose growth I have nursed.
I protect, as I fly,
Bashful lovers who lie
Undisturbed in their secretive nests,
While the world is at bay
And far out of their way
On its tiresome, oblivious quests.
When the spring air is dry,
I breathe out with a sigh
And the flowers all bloom at my will
And, when autumn is near,
I shed many a tear
O’er the moors while the granaries fill.
Voice their songs without words
In their fond expectation of me,
And then play in the sun
Once their hearts I have won
With the gift of how warm I can be.
I roam, wave upon wave,
When the mariners crave
The sweet taste of moist myrrh on their lips;
Then I plunge and dissolve,
Rise anew and evolve
Into fog which embraces their ships.
From high crests I oft wend
And with care do I tend
To the needs of all green’ry on earth,
Whom I raise from the ground
In a medley unbound
With tall giants of singular girth.
Over mountains I creep,
Upon castles I weep
As they slowly concede to decay;
Then I cover in moss
All that crumbles to loss
When men die and may not have their say.
Once my tears are all gone,
I give way to the sun
And my brilliant sprays overshine
All that flashes on high
And bewitches the eye
On a bow decked in splendor divine.
Though in change I am donned,
I’m the bridge and the bond
Between heaven and earth in their strife;
I am shy yet sublime,
Unaffected by time,
As refulgent in death as in life.
Find my poems and published poetry volumes at www.eton-langford.com
Copyright © Eton Langford | Year Posted 2016
A summer rain arrived, unwelcome, cold and unannounced,
Spattering softly then louder, as if a hidden tiger had pounced.
I stared out of the window pane as the world turned silver-black,
With distorted reflections of lights from the thunder flash and crack.
A face stares back from the window, captured in each rain bead,
Like a fragmented, displaced reflection of a soul clinging to a need.
They wriggle down the window pane, as if searching for a course,
Like a hidden memory surfacing, loosening a mighty natural force.
Each bead a broken part of me or perhaps a fragment of my soul,
As it clings to the window pane, fighting and crashing as they roll.
Some they merge together as lover warriors against the world,
But they tumble fall to nothing as more raindrops are unfurled.
They softly flow away together, their identities lost from view,
Leaving the world so refreshed, fragrant as early morning dew
An order and a reason, portrayed so assured and so intense,
Rests behind its demeanour, its nature, is not an offence.
What of the different parts of me that are lost upon the pane?
They are washed away to nothingness and purified by the rain!
Copyright © Seosamh De Burca | Year Posted 2013
The window panes shuddered
as he crawled back into his bed
of disillusion; waiting for
lightning to strike him
into some state
The sky groaned at his
naked body, a gift of
mockery laid beside
him, bantering with
his need for her to stay.
She always left something
behind, maybe it was an
excuse for her to return?
Or was her mind really
that far away when he
He let the talisman
turn between his
fingers, and tried to
think of a proper prayer
for the occasion.
Nothing came to mind.
he allowed the stone figure
to contemplate his eyes
and waited for her
to come back again.
She was the only one
that could ever make
-James Kelley 2012, All rights reserved.
Copyright © James Kelley | Year Posted 2013
Crystals of reflection shatter on earth’s countenance,
for Heaven is crying,
drenching the misty shroud consecrating her face
in sobbing percussion.
Liquid satin rolls down withered skin
and sensations are set alight
in the dance of icy fire.
With the tingling aroma of melancholy,
all time ceases to exist during hypnotic rhythms
consoling a heart without beat.
In a trance, I taste Heaven’s decadent sorrow
mingling with the salt of my own tears…
Copyright © Robyn Thomas | Year Posted 2013
(A Poem ought to be identified with its true author and should be known as his. Metrical form of writing worthily represented here in this poem composed solely by Giorgio Venetopoulos which had remained unpublished.)
The maiden's form diffuses neath the rain
and beautiful she steps around the sage
The mists embrace her dream on this domain
and vernal age.
The autumn raindrops fall, forever thin
They sing the maiden's song that lingers high
She fled to college winters that akin
have gone awry.
She fled above the plains where women sing
The heartfelt painful songs of love that stings
The iron bells of Sunday callings ring
for queens and kings.
Above the castle's walls the coldness casts
and dancing snowflakes fly to years before
where trees saluted his departing masts,
for e'er ashore.
Forsooth her shape outlined above the field
Where flowers blossomed in the air and smiled
The quiet dusk her heart sedately healed
Across their Summer lay the swaths of scythe
the mowing ended and a wedding song
two wraiths recite, thus on the wheatfield lithe
for e'er belong.
© Giorgio A.V. & Gautami Phookan 10-18-2014, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic pentameter - Iambic dimeter)
Copyright © gautami phookan | Year Posted 2015
Let them be the sun.
Optimistic rays of sunshine
Shining upon giddy children
As they play in the park
I'd rather be the rain.
Pessimistic drops of water
Making children from of dissapointment
As they watch raindrops race down their windowpane
To be able to give a droughting town hope
To cool the burning bodies of children
To stop the thirst of a city
To save the lifes of millions
Making the moon and sea meet
As I would join the ocean and rise with it
Feeling the current touch the stars
And making a tidal wave hold hands with the planets.
So I would let them be the sun.
So on a hot sunny day
Parents can pull in their sun-burnt children and warn them about their harmful rays.
And I, the rain.
Would wash away the sweat, blood and tears.
And I would look down at the children dancing.
And I would watch the couple kiss under me.
So, I would rather be the rain.
Because After the rain.
We all get to see a rainbow.
Copyright © Erica Mercado | Year Posted 2015
Curtain of brown dusk
Could not hide your pleasant silhouette
From my sight.
Memories of a day
Being shared between evening clouds.
A moment still hanging-
With a last wish of a spring leaf.
Wild wind playing flute
As stuck up in a drey.
Gloaming listens drifting bird’s swan-song,
‘ecstasy of living is joy enough.’
Rain composes a rondeau
‘I enliven grey soil.’
A poem by goutam hazra
Copyright © Goutam Hazra | Year Posted 2013
A moment stauls...
Somewhere in between
What shall always be...
Known as my lost and forever hour
Where I wake to sounds of thrashing rains
A clock sits staring, ticking and tocking
My own darkness illuminating lightning
Distant thunder following her in shame
Although, throes of raven blackness
Slumber holds on to the pitch
But, I pass through limbo hallways of surreal
Stumbling forth in directions by my blinded feel itch
Walls of lucid memories like dripping paint
Begin to lapse deep into the younger years
And creaking footfalls shatter their echo
Of certian remembered fears
"Ah" deja vu sounds the alarm even further
Cracks from father’s room, is the ceiling leaking?
Into my little ears I'm more awake
As I hear the faint famaliar tears of weeping
My curiosity ever stronger than before
And innocent eyes through doorways peer
It’s the war again; Mom said he tried...
To leave it all behind, but still it's always there
And the storm's outside, but in a booming violence
Rushes back surreal into the unforgotten killing
The death, its experiences still locked up
Within his mind never free or escaping
A heroes love is his strength
Protecting me from a world with terrible pains
But, somehow I’ve learned to understand
That he needs his son, to calm his troubled angst
And silently I step
Inching slowly towards him
And nestle up within his trembling hands
Tugging upon one sleeve whispering "Dad, oh dad?"
“God has sent me here”
I say directly in his ear
Quieter now “To love you”
My tone gentle to his needs
Wiping away his tears
He whispers back...
And picks me up, relieved
And in turn we face the scene
Of a passing storm into silence
As the rain seems alive to notice
Stopping to watch our mends in evanescence
We are somewhat aware we are within God's presence
Looking to each other with a shrug
And then my dad holds me up
Giving this boy the biggest hug
Beneath the returning quiet
And the ambience of moonray light
He carries me back to my room
And places me into bed amid the last flash of white
Pulls the blankets up
Knowing this will comfort me
And I’ll never forget the words
He said so effortlessly
You will have a son
Always let him know you love him
And your bond will never end”
Again I wake, this time
To the sounds of an apologetic rain
The lightening has ceased its battle
And the thunder it no longer blames
I unwind the blanket
And uncover and sit
Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes
Awake, on the edge of bed
Was this a dream?
Or a twist of fate reality?
I ponder, running fingers through my hair
And, merely reflect upon it
Then I realize…
I was not alone
Dad is watching, not far away
And I know one day, I'll see him soon, after heaven's gates
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2013