These Quatrain Rain poems are examples of Quatrain poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Quatrain Rain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
I'm leaving now, but here is a reminder
'Twill bring to you the days we walked through rain
So when you wish to feel my hand in yours
Or stroke your dripping hair-- Then kiss the rain
Though leaving now, I wish I could be with you
So when you feel o'erwhelmed with grief or pain
And long for my caress upon your face,
The rain will touch instead-- So kiss the rain
Whenever you have tho'ts of this sad parting
And salty tears your lovely cheeks do stain
To feel the tears for you I'll surely have
Do this, and I will too-- Go kiss the rain
Whenever you are longing for my presence
And times that we went strolling down the lane
I'll whisper soft endearments on the breeze
So heed the sighing wind-- And kiss the rain
If ever you should pine to hear me speaking
The thunder might burst forth with glorious main*
While drops that fall are sure to be my tears,
To feel them wet your skin-- Just kiss the rain
* Power or Force
The rain outside my door
Its talk, a calming effect
Upon my restless spirit, implores
the need to reflect.
The rain, drenching the moors
Its pounding upon rocky crests
Like the clapping of hands, soars
Upon the senses, dissolving stress.
The rain inviting me outdoors
Its plead to leave the comfort of concepts
Exchanging the warmth of safe indoors
For the dramatic cold of clarity, intercepts.
The rain, cleansing a downpour
Its relentlessness stripping the walls erected
Around the damaged heart, explores
Upon new possibilities, wider directed.
The rain, beckoning a force
Its puddles upon my feet impress
With childlike laughter, a dance extorts
Revving the spirit, the genuine soul expressed.
copyright © 02.06.10
(this is a type of quatrain called Swap Quatrain,
wherein the fourth line of each stanza
is actually the first line, just swapped around)
Another Time, long long ago,
there was no Rain; there was no Snow.
No reason was there, and no rhyme
long long ago, another Time.
A desert only, lifeless land -
boulders, pebbles, grains of sand;
hot and windswept, barren, lonely
lifeless land; a desert only.
From Sky was tossed one day, a seed
onto this land so much in need,
whose dreariness would soon be lost.
One day a seed from Sky was tossed.
In Sun’s bright heat, the small seed grew
until an egg it changed into.
It needed only moisture sweet.
The small seed grew in Sun’s bright heat.
Sky clapped loud sound; a bird appeared.
The egg was pulsing as she neared.
White feathers fluttered to the ground.
A bird appeared; Sky clapped loud sound.
As Rain came down. . . A sudden change!
The bird turned into something strange -
A lovely girl with feathered gown!
A sudden change as Rain came down.
With Rain’s soft fall, the egg had burst.
Emerging from the egg came first
One horse, then two. Fantastical!
The egg had burst with Rain’s soft fall.
The horses grew beneath big Sun.
They thrived; with Rain they were as one.
Along with her, like Wind, they’d run.
Beneath big Sun, the horses grew.
Twin beasts and Rain, that dry land’s three
became a new world’s trinity.
And with them, green and springtime came.
That dry land’s three: twin beasts and Rain.
With so much spring, with Rain’s pure grace
came poetry into that place.
Bright flowers bloomed when she would sing
with Rain’s pure grace, with so much spring.
Variety, the needful thing,
Rain prayed out loud for Sky to bring.
And so was born for her to see:
the needful thing, Variety!
Then came down Snow from up above.
This counterpart was Rain’s true love.
When white Snow ebbed, sweet Rain would flow.
From up above, then came down Snow.
Sweet Rain, white Snow, atop each horse,
still ride the land and set the course
of when their seasons come and go.
Atop each horse, sweet Rain, white Snow.
By Andrea Dietrich
Inspired by A Rambling Poet's Contest:
"Rain: the Story"
today it stormed inside the house
while outside it was sunny and warm
it thundered and rained so very hard
it was no ordinary storm
the winds they raged in every direction
and made the rain fly and not fall
some rain few upward through the wind
in the cyclones many claws
then the calm of the storm finally came
i could see the sun so calm and new
it was just like a day in spring had come
except for the damages that storms do
but suddenly again the tempest it raged
the wind seemed to blow out the other end
i'll hold on tight with all my strength and might
knowing my storm is you
Pitter patter, drip, drop, it’s not an April shower
Drip, drop, drip, drop raining hour after long hour
Suddenly the sun streaks through, javelins of sunlight
Then back to pitter, patter, and rain throughout the night.
In and out of doorways, trying to stay dry
Thunder crashing the Queens dead, the country seems to sigh
Edward the happy monarch will rule with fun from now on
Rain, rain, it never stops crying for the Old Queen is gone.
The sun breaks through the London grey, it sparkles on a tree leaf
Drops still dripping slowly, displaying all their grief.
Happy times are coming, skipping down the London streets
Children playing hopscotch, while the bobbies are on the beat.
A blossom opens a leaf unfurls, breathes the rain drops in
The first sup of clean water in these london streets so grim.
Pitter, patter, feel the rain - dodging in and out of doorways
Trying to keep dry in the summer rain as one does always.
The ringing of the bells, Big Ben strikes the hour
A begging hand from a pile of rags huddled in the shower.
The old queen is dead and gone, but wanders through her city
Looking left and right, she shakes her head in certain pity
Through London town she wanders where dirt and grime abound
She’s searching for she does not know - until it she has found
The thunder crashes the rain pours then drips slowly to an end
The queen is dead long live the King she prays his ways he’ll mend.
Entry for Tracie's Anything goes competition This is a Poem I have just done for a Magazine about when Queen Victoria died.
Stone black is the park at will
But cool is the night
That gleams across a lone hill
Oak decked in white
With moistened twigs nearly bare
Clinging the pond
Windblown by misty air
Tells me I am bound
For one early morning rain
Languid in repose
Pounding on an incised pain
Bench without a rose
This heart trickles as it sits
A throb that heaves
For drenched flower that wilts
Upon dark moon’s eaves
Oh the park knows my longing
Tasting all seasons
That drape souvenirs’ mourning
In rain and reasons
*inspired by the title of Lightfoot's song,
"Early Morning Rain"
by nette onclaud
Francine Roberts’ Write Me a Lightfoot Poem
Storm clouds gather over the mountains
The day suddenly heavy and dark
The graveyard murmurs old songs
Totems and headstones standing stark
Native artists gave the spirit world voice
Gods of nature speak though their art
Wings steadily raised in supplication
The spirit world and man not far apart
The raven knows of the other world
He calls out to those left behind
"Prepare for the cleansing rain coming
Death comes to the body, not to the mind"....
Barbara Gorelick 8/18/11
After I woke up this morning, I saw
I walked whilst the rain poured down on my head
I for sure loved running within each drop
I kiss the rain, blessings I held instead
The rain flowed down on my body, around
Blending with my being all that I am
I hold the rain in the palm of my hand
There’s so much rain, I do love her, madam
She leaves such an imprint onto my hand
A feminine form bolstered onto me
Signaling a born love of the warm rain
Something that I have always loved completely
I kiss the rain, as if I’ll never see…
Like I’ll never see rain ever again
Holding the lovely droplets near my heart
It’s the best feeling that has ever been
Entrant into Gail Angel Doyle's "Kiss The Rain" contest
Summer brings floods of feelings to surface
An impressive time period done shown
Having light shine down completely around
Very warm with everything fully grown
There’s one piece of the season that shows dark
Summer rains, warmly falling on the ground
However warm, storms are greatly enforced
Nothing seems as dark, the sky is sure found
Lightning, bright and fearfully striking down
Hurling its mighty electric life force
Bringing its painful terror to true light
The rain from the clouds, come from its high source
I know the storm comes in as a lion
June seems to be stormy and rainy time
A horrible scary time seems secure
Fits into some time of day, like noontime
Storm comes in very harshly, all about
Direly people scurry to find shelter
Summer rain is not the best event here
Rain is surely a large storm, a basher
I look at times passing, enlightenment
Knowing the summer might just be the best
Even with summer rain, it’s wonderful
Rain might be huge, but the summer has zest
Entrant into Judy Konos's "Searching For Summer" contest
Listen to the sound the rain makes,
As it drums out it's own special tune;
Tapping a mystic melody,
On windows and roof tops and dunes;
Lulling the weary traveler,
And soothing the cares of the day,
Calming the troubled spirit,
And chasing my blues away;
Pattering 'gainst my window,
It chases away my frown,
As with warm cup of tea and a blanket,
I hurry to get settled down.
Outside the rain patters merrily,
Inviting me,"Come out and play.",
Inside I'm cozy and comfy,
I'll go out some other day;
For now I'll enjoy the music,
On roof top and window panes,
All comfy and warm I'll sit here and watch,
As rain drops play little games;
Scurrying 'cross my window,
And making small rivers and streams,
As children in bright colored rain coats,
Chase paper boats through my dreams.