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Sun Rain Poems | Sun Poems About Rain

These Sun Rain poems are examples of Sun poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Sun Rain poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Concrete | |

The Eternal Tree

I am Alive    Forever and always         Essence        Rebirth        Renewal
          I have earth to ground me      I have wind to move me   I have fire to cleanse         
     my     spirit        I have rain      to quench    my thirst    for growth
                      I have sun to    enlighten me        feed me  I am my own mother
              and an extension of the whole     I am   Earth         wind
                       rain   sun  fire    I am as old as life  and I am     as young
   as time   I am shelter to those who seek me   I am a bird  a flower and  the breath
              of the earth itself        I am exactly where I want to be     I am life
       I am first and last  the beginning and the end   I am one from many
                        I am what I am   I live  I grow  and I die. I am  Reborn unto myself
                                                          I am the great circle                   
                                                           My limbs know no                          
                                                           Boundaries; while                            
                                                           My leaves whisper                      
                                                           The one truth of the                      
                                                           Whole  through the           
                                                           Seasons changing
                                                            Colors that I wear 
                                                            Upon my   heart's                  
                                                            Sleeve, I'm home
                                                           To Earth Mother’s
                                                           Melodious  Life; I
                                                           Sing for the whole
                                                         World to hear - trees
                                                       Are Earth Mother's Song
                                                       Blowing 'round the leafy            
                                                  Globe; eyes of the world song 
    {{{{{{{{{{{{{{ Of the Mother   breath of the living   soul of the earth }}}}}}}}}}}}

***Senses evoked here are: Touching, Tasting, Hearing, Smelling and Seeing
***Elements evoked are: Water, Wind, Earth Metal, and Fire

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |

A Ray Of Sun On A Rainy Day

i stood looking outside listening to the rain  with its long slender fingers tap a tune against my window squeegees in hand i could see  the troops of drops clean the air for a clearer view while on their descent people some walking  holding their umbrellas others running attempting to escape the cruel barrage of knocks to their heads there are a few children  in their rainy day gear locked and loaded steady and ready attacking the puddles with a fierce offensive  crushing any and all puddles  dare question their authority  jumping and diminishing  the enemy ruthlessly the children's joy propels me to thoughts  of the gift ahead a rainbow large or maybe a double arc fully colored vibrant interrupted  my kettle  whistles me over meticulously  i proceed to prepare my rainy day cocoa in my neighborhood it's a law rain? hot cocoa cocoa in hand i return to my show the trees are soaked the rain unrelenting  the plants forced to bend under the weight of heavy rain all the tiny flyers  seek shelter while birds  bomb dive  for their landing worms however are in their full glory out for their unscheduled shower later aliens with lamps shinning from their foreheads will gather to pluck worms  from the earth poor worms my daughters will be glad never having  liked crawlies  of any kind i suppose  they would think poor aliens the rain now is descending violently  apparently in cahoots  with the wind but still no  thunder or lightning  this must be their week off a paid vacation  i gather my cocoa only warm and almost finished i decide to bid the rain  a good night i head upstairs for my  daily shower
Maurice Yvonne September 12 2014 Rainy Day Contest

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Free verse | |

Her Name Was Rain

 .                                                        (                  )
                                                        (                     )
                        (          )                    (       /   /    /   )
                     (              )
                         / / /                              /  /       /    /
                         /    /                               /  /   /

Like the disappearing sun of yesterday                           (           )
So has her childhood dissolved away                          (       //       )
With two white steeds that are the trees                       (   / /       )
She is the leaf, marauder of the breeze                            /  /   
She rides against the wind
                        /  /  /
        Her name is Rain
        Born with the grain of knowing
        Sight to the blind who cannot see tomorrow
        Or view the valleys of the past

/  /        Tho', not envious of her rampant blood!
            Where origins are buried in another world
            Where voices speak in lost syllables
            In a language of no forgetting
            Where the laughter of the birds is still
            And clouds shed only a torrent of tears
                                /                   / /
                    For she would rather turn her face to the sky
             /      And feel the gentleness of the mist
                    She has a burning desire to be free
                    Free of the gift
       /  /         Free of the burden
                    Free of the knowledge that has taken her innocence
                                     //    //                 /
                        A voice of the thunder calls her
                        Invites her to fly beyond the clouds
                        So the earth can be beautiful                                    
                        Where the sun comes after the rain                         
                 /      Where the drought is over at last                       
/                       Where rain becomes rainbows                                   
                        She is the leaf.....maurader of the breeze                   
          /     /       Her name is Rain     

For Constance La France's contest "Rain, The Story"
By Carrie Richards

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Rispetto | |

Fickle Sun

Fickle sun with watery eyes
low upon the horizon lies
hanging his boots over the side
of our soggy, rain weary world.
Disrespectful, his pipe smoke curled
around dripping mountains, blue dyed;
fickle sun with watery eyes
low upon the horizon lies.

My cute rain boots are filled with frogs!
The sun should shine! Old pedagogue
hanging his boots over the side,
over dripping mountains, blue dyed;
fickle sun with watery eyes
low upon the horizon lies.

October 11, 2014

Copyright © Faye Gibson

Details | Ghazal | |

Lavender Rain

Breezes WHISPER in the trees after cleansing rain;
FRAGRANCE of Wisteria WAFTS following rain

Thoughts of my love's LILTING bass voice WAFTING brings BLISS,
As FRAGRANT Wisteria comes with flowing rain

As SPLENDOR of sun peeking from behind a cloud;
The bright glow and warmth is as TRANQUILIZING rain

DULCET sun melts cares better than TRANQUILIZER___
Better even after a spring soft washing rain

ELOQUENCE of my love's romantic poems soothes the heart,
SUNFLOWER listens through LAVENDER flowing rain.

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Lyric | |

Kiss the Rain

~*~ To reach out and touch you Feel your warmth on my skin So intangible So surreal As sun sets on pillows And mist laden sorrows The dark windswept willows Now sleep till tomorrow Then come dance again As the sun sets up high And the whispering wind Carries a soft kiss of Spring rain As sun sets on pillows And snow covered mountains The crash of swift rivers Lift fleeting light fountains As dainty droplets fall Sending you sweet kisses Springs soft kiss of rain Come dance again As sun sets on pillows And oceans set motions The sweet songbirds chorus Fills a million emotions To reach out and touch you In Sring soft kisses of rain Come dance again.. ~*~

Copyright © Tracie Edwards

Details | Dramatic monologue | |

I wonder why

Silent as a windows pane that upon
I perch my head.
As the rain pounds against the
Transparent wall, I cannot find
Any rest or peace. I wonder why
Oh dear Lord it continuously rains
Over me.
The sun always shines on some one
Else door step, Self-Woe only
Barricades my only exit/
I sit in my corner chained back
Wondering why no one will free
Me of this great big lie.
There’s a invisible thread that
Awaits me every morning I take
My first step. Like a wild animal
I fight what I cannot see yet its there
Keeping me from being free.
I wonder if I really tried to do better
This time in less you agree I am just
A loser someone who is just making it
Through life under others expense.
I took a chance went outside saw that
The rain wasn’t there, the sun in
Shining finally over my effort to be
Strong at no one else expense.

Copyright © Eric Kaesberg

Details | Ballad | |

Noonday Sun

Noonday Sun

Suffering, so much suffering astounds,
Suffering brings us to our very knees,
And cries out to us in sleepless nights,
In the morning, fatigued and wrenched,
Begging for a reprieve from the day,
The sun is blocked by the sound of our own doubt,
“Where is the end of all this?”
“To what end is this, Lord Buddha?”
And he points to the clouds,
And says, “Wait”
And in that moments waiting,
We think to our children,
And we look to their faces, smiling faces though still starving in tattered rags,
And we understand, that there is a brighter day for them,
For someone made the Sun I tell you,
For someone made the Sun,
And as the Son heats the clouds,
We feel the wind on our heat scorched faces,
And we say, “Allah, what is the meaning of this?”
And she says, “Wait!”
And in that moments waiting,
We think of Mother Jones pleading for her people as she speaks truth to power.
And as droplets of rain begin to fall into our sordid subconscious,
We begin to grasp the nature of a Grace that suffers with us,
And as droplets of rain begin to fall into our sordid subconscious,
We look to each other,
And feel the warmth of a Noonday sun.

Copyright © Woodrow Lucas

Details | Lyric | |

Remember Me

The sun shines yes I know
A heavy gust as the wind wants to blow
Leaves flying high in the sky and then hitting the ground
The sun decides to fall as the moon decides to rise
As darkness begins to be all around 

Remember my smile as the sun that shines
Remember my breath as the wind blows
Remember my feelings as the moon begins to rise
Remember me even when I die

The fire burns everything in sight
But the rain rids its heat with all its might
The cold weather is now here
And the sun begins to disappear

Remember my love as the fire burns
Remember my pain as the rain falls
Remember my hugs as the weather gets cold and dry
Remember me even when I die

The breeze cools everything and everyone down
Even that sad person walking into town
Listen to music on the days you have a frown
And at night dream as you lay in your gown

Remember my passion as the breezes begins to settle
Remember my words as the music plays
Remember my inspiration when you start to dream
In the heavens I will be lifted up high
So remember me even when I die

© Jeremy Fennell

Copyright © jeremy fennell

Details | Rhyme | |

Whspers of Light

Tickled with wet prisms
Cocooned with the dead head of trees
Synchronized in natures rhythms
Her skin dancing with shadows in a breeze

Good morning Misses Sun
Inhaling the exhalants of the plants
Worries has she? None.
In spring showers she does gallivant.

After noon parade of Clouds
What stories in shapes do you bring me?
I see you’re not in lack of drought
I do love the song of thunder you sing me

So soon Mister Moon
I’m ready for the spotlight summons
Rolling in your dark doom
The now dry sky cries diamonds

How I love the day
How I love the Night
More than I can ever say
Mmm Whispers of the light.

-B. Maxine

Copyright © B. Maxine Revolution

Details | I do not know? | |

Rain and Me

A happy day. 
You were the sun. 
I was Earth. 

Nothing could disrupt the gravitational pull; 
Nothing could stop physics, 
Our law of gravity. 

A cloud breaks rank, showering 
Me in damp moonlight, 
And I see your face 
Align in the stars. 

Is this you with that 
Last goodbye 
And last kiss, 
Is the night simply fooling me? 

You had only said those words of 
Nothing at all. 
You had only signaled a meeting with 
A kiss 
Which felt so penultimate. 

The sun has already passed now, 
That night has come. 
I stand here. 

Near the pond where you’d 
Taught me to skip stones, 
I realize I’ll never see you again. 

You have left it to the night to break my heart; 
Silently invisible wind is the love I always felt, 
Chilled grass is the heart in my chest, 
Each beat scared of vulnerability. 

You had only dampened those words of 
Nothing at all. 
You had only drenched a meeting with 
A kiss 
Which felt so penultimate. 

The sun has gone now.
That night has come. 

Everything I knew of you is now 
Buried within these raindrops. 

The sun has gone now.
That night has come. 

I have tears. 

Copyright © Jack Wright

Details | Lyric | |


Rainbows are for hope. 

Raindrops splatter 'gainst my window     
Music from the sky; 
Each crystal drop a mellow bell 
A gentle melody to tell     
me ...that your love is mine. 

 Sunlight scatters thru my window     
Warm touches sent to me 
Each photon beam a kiss from you 
Sent to me across the blue...     
 A comfort wished here tenderly. 

 April winds caress my window    
 Breath from clouds above; 
Daring me to share the passion, 
Give my heart in wild abandon,     
 Drinking deeply of your love. 

 Rainbows Bless my Open window      
Sun-drops & rain combined. 
The ends connecting us together 
Distances no longer matter...      
Out hearts are intertwined.

Copyright © Karen Ruff

Details | ABC | |


The Earth dry and bare; waiting eagerly for the drops of care;

Caught in the hot, steaming summer’s snare;

The flowers and creepers decorating window sills; all look desolate and ill;

As the nature withers away in the sun’s merciless glare.


The men and the wives; the kids and the wild;

All are enduring the summer’s waterless exile;

They are waiting for the rain; to relieve them of the heat pain;

And of that life which has become a sweaty turmoil.


The wind strong and gusty; makes the roads yellow and dusty;

And the air around becomes suffocating and musty;

The birds forget to sing; their lilting, musical thing;

Even as the tree leaves wristle and make noise so husky.


Then come the Monsoon showers; falling first on boughs and flowers;

Making the trees and plants glisten and glower;

So the monsoon comes in grace; driving away summer’s trace;

Lashing at window-panes with its all-reigning power.


As the monsoon drives away the summer heat; with its raining rhythm off-beat;

And the flower buds open up to return it’s greet;

And as the water seeps in soil; a refreshing fragrance arise;

While the rain continuous to cool down hot gardens and streets.


The Earth grows green; and water droplets gleam;

On the smooth, waxy surfaces of the leaves;

Everywhere the flowers grow; in pink, red, white or yellow;

While buds make their way blushingly between tendrils.

 The wet and soft soil; now grows fertile;

And tender green plantlets push through the Earth in style;

Through soil the tiny saplings peep; as their sown seeds begin to reap;

And the plants and crops shake off the Earth’s temporary curse sterile.


As the raindrops go pitter-patter; water in puddles begins to gather;

And the little birds begin to chirp, twitter and chatter;

The insects begin to hum along; their irritating and happy song;

While due to rain and wind the roofs on houses begin to chatter.


As the showers for some moments cease; after giving Earth life’s new lease;

And the pitter-patter of rain is gently appeased;

The sun coyly shines; a cloud it half hides behind;

While the fluffy clouds move along with the cool breeze.


The fields now green and bright; are an artist’s sheer delight;

Pleasing to the senses of smell and sight;

The fresh air so sweet to breathe; that with pleasure the body writhes;

In the newly born rainy sunlight.


But this sunlight so quickly goes; as thunderstorms blow to and fro;

And Earth engulfs in darkness that now grows;

The wind rises and howls; with a voice that trembles all souls;

And day and night this gale roars.


The trees in fear tremble and shake; as leaves, twigs and branches break;

And the life of these trees is put up at stake;

Birds in nests cower with fright; and due to cold shiver with all their might;

And live in fearful anticipation of what else the storm may rake.

The monsoon now shows its ugly face; gone are its days of grace;

Rainy calamities take its place;

Cyclones and floods destruct worldwide; the raging sea throws up its tide;

“Nature reigns supreme”, we are forced to say.


Same is the life of man; may he do what he can;

But destiny will always play a hand;

What all will man control? So he should let destiny play its role;

And enjoy life and act as the situation will demand.


Somedays will shine the sun; those days life will be fun;

And work will be successful how much ever it’s done;

Somedays by the fun you will tire; and will long to get back into the attire;

Of normal life, however boring or glum.


Sometimes hope will come out; like a tiny plant sprouts;

And will remove from your mind every shade of doubt;

It will be a bright, hopeful ray; but for long it may not stay;

So we must make most of it when hope sprouts.


Just as the shower of joy; after summer comes out shy;

So shower of success will come when you have almost given up the try;

It will wash away your helpless sigh; and will give you a new will to try;

Which will help you succeed by-and-by.


Just as the sun goes behind the cloud; when thunder is heard aloud;

And darkness suddenly falls on Earth all around;

So also failure will touch you once; its upto you to prevent its repeated occurrence;

Or due to failure remain depression bound.


Sometimes through demotivation you will go; sometimes loads of success you'll know;

For we need all types of experience to make us grow;

Like some days it is wet; some days the sun for long doesn’t set;

But then it needs both the rain and the sun to make a RAINBOW…

Copyright © Amrapali Tendolkar

Details | Epic | |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra


My father told me 
first time 
I was just a boy then,
“Follow the scent of paddy flower
move with the wind it carries,
surely you will go to heaven.”

I remember
he would catch 
fistful of wind
bring near to my face
and wonder,
“Isn’t it godly!”

Magically, opened his hand
but I never felt
what scent he meant.
Days of kind rain

“Son, see the misty wind
rushing all over the paddy field
comes every year
to drink the scent of paddy flower.”

Mere as a boy
I could see only
tides of a green plane
touching my little finger
and racing far… too far.
I would ask  
“Where have they gone?”
Smiled my father 
and said
“Did not you listen,
they are going to heaven,
call the goddess then,
‘come goddess dear’
we all are ready with paddy flower.”

Curious was my face,
“Papa, then?”

“Goddess will arrive smiling
her feet will be here
Seeing a pot in her hand
all those paddy flowers
delighted, will open their mouth more wider
and life will be poured…”

“Where these flowers come from?”

Remained my father smiling
speaking all his mind
looking high at sky
asked me to see there
spoke he again.

“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
on the first day of its shower
kind rain would ask me to come here
with bagful of paddy seeds,
‘let seeds be spread all over,
let its eternal relation with soil
be the fertilizer’
when all said is done
waiting rain 
starts showering its kind
make visible hiding life in the abyss of seed.
Happy wind changes color
being green all around
waits for the day
when the wind would smell the scent of paddy flower.”

Days passed by,
kind rain was still in waiting
sometimes hidden beyond horizon
or simply making sun blind with its smoky face
and whenever wind said,
‘Dry I’m now’
quenched the thirst.

Someday wind played naughty with sun
asked kind rain to make it misty
and with brushes of sun rays 
painted a rainbow on the face of east sky.

Wait was over
green field blossomed with flowers
and wind said,
“Fill in my heart
with scent of flower
I shall bring life…”

Happy was my father’s voice
“Rain, rain, kind monsoon rain
said so
green wind brining life 
did so
scent of paddy flower
is made so.
Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
kind rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”
Cruel entropy

How old was I then
nine or ten
my father looked up
up to the sky
again and again
for a month long
only to see 
change of sky’s color
from the color of a summer day to a long humid night.
Dry wind cried at last
over my father’s sweating body
“Rain, rain O kind rain, where have you gone.”

One day sudden
kind rain came again.
Cried to my father
“Why no green wind came this year
from ocean 
to bring me here.
Desert wind why
dry my breath
seeds you have sown
how could I then
enliven with my rain.”

many question
my father had asked the rain.

Short-lived, hurried rain could spell its last breath,
“I am not that rain 
as was your friend,
I am the curse of dying forest
I am the ghost of all pollution
I am born out of acid weather…”

Who knew, it left for where?

My father cried 
As kind rain left him alone
hiding in a dry wind’s bone.

My father was still
going every morning
asking the soil
in vain
if soil could alone
make the paddy flowers to be born.

Year passed by,
came back the time, 
for green wind to bring kind rain.

Rain came one day.

But why
as a cloudburst
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?

Dumb remained my father
for days together
sad was his voice at last,
“Run away, son, run away from here,
sky rain wind
river village land;
thread of this garland
who cuts it
go, stop now there hand.”

Draught and flood,
uncertainty of life 
changed my mind 
as of a farmer’s son.
Books, studies and education
reasons, truth and compassion
might have had fulfilled my father’s mission.

Does not this civilization
converts us 
as the products to do more production.
Run, run and run 
run ahead of time
let be it, at the cost of inhaling killer tension,
stress taking  over your life.
Insomnia, cholesterol or cynicism
is our success’s companion? 
‘A’ is shaped as ‘B’
and ‘B’ is sold as ‘C’.
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

Scent of life

So here, I am again
standing in front of this green plane
searching for the shadow of my father.
Green wind surrounds my existence
I can see the dance of those bunches.
My mind whispers to my ear
echoes those words of my father, 
“Bare footed be here
print your soul
in the dust of this soil
rain will come
green wind being there
life will be yours 
with the scent of paddy flower.”

I never felt so,
what I smell now 
is the scent of paddy flower.

Copyright © Goutam Hazra

Details | Free verse | |

The last tree

A pretty oak  sits outside my window pane in the snow and in the rain 
Covered with life, outside the balcony fifty steps away 
Decorating the tree with  flashes of red, black, grey,  yellow and white, 
are his friends the cardinals , squirrels , chickadees and the tufted titmice
 They sing , chirp, and  chatter in harmony of song 
As the seasons pass, we live  thru heat, drought , cold and  rain all year long
 I keep my feeder close at hand and watch as they load up in waves of two and three 
 to make their run at the seeds and grain 
The leaves are green now and vibrant with life, in the fall the acorns grow and my tree stands tall 
At winter they covet  the warmth and provide a shelter for the thick furred grey squirrels
 A lovely little hole in the crook of the branch big enough for two to snuggle and borough 
They race down these pathways in the sky, playful as skilled acrobats
October mornings  the leaves are falling , making noisy whispering sounds
the first rays of  sun turn frost into a million twinkling stars on the ground 
 The two winged take refuge in their nest , built carefully for warmth and rest 
To nurse  and raise their young , making them fit for another generation of  the best
The seasons flow as a quiet pond and like our beautiful  life 
 everything is real with very  little strife
 Among the colorful citizens of  this merry place I give life in equal exchange
for joy and a chance To sit and watch my friends as I grow old and enjoy life in the sun 
But life  changes,  very unfair , and I am denied my playground in the sky
one day some men came and cut all the beauty down 
Now its gone all butchered and bare nothing left but a big hole in the ground 

Copyright © jim joyce

Details | Rhyme | |

My Purple Umbrella

Come and dance in the rain with me,
Underneath my purple umbrella.
It's big enough for two, you see,
My beautiful purple umbrella.

And if the day is sunny and bright,
My beautiful purple umbrella,
Will shade us from the sun's burning light.
Come sit 'neath my purple umbrella.

Everywhere I go I tend to bring,
My beautiful purple umbrella.
'Cause the weather is such a fickle thing,
Thank goodness for my purple umbrella.

For Leonora's Umbrella contest

Copyright © Kim Merryman

Details | Acrostic | |

Under My Umbrella

U nder My Umbrella,
N eeding protection and relief.
D etermined in life to be made complete.
E verlasting Father,
R endering my life underneath, Your cover.

M y Umbrella,
Y our mercy granted through God's, Son.

U mbrella,
M ade to use for my own protection in sunshine or rain.
B eneath the shadow of my umbrella there remains,
R easons the umbrella is simply unique.
L ovely for a sunny day, made complete.
L ong days of rain or in the days of sun rays.
A dds to a day, Under My Umbrella...Under the shadow of His wings.  

Copyright © Cinda Carter

Details | I do not know? | |

Sunday Thoughts

We can either be miserable 
Or we can be positive.

When we are miserable 
The forecast is always cloudy.

When we are positive,
The sun is always on the way.

I've heard this several times in different ways,
That's why I'm not putting my name on it.

Copyright © Brenda Meier-Hans

Details | Haiku | |

- Haiku X 60 - Sunshine In Bags -

Poor summer sunshine
Greenhouse a wealth of flowers
I fill many bags

17.07.2015 A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Anne Lise Andresen

Details | Quatrain | |


Out of the blue
And into the grey
As the clouds roll by
The sun goes away

As the rain settles down
And washes the air
Tomorrow will be
Light, crisp and fair

Puddles on the road
Mud in  the driveways
And grass that is wet
Such are summer days

The sound of the drips
Of rain drop splashes
The rumbles above
And lightning flashes

The chill that it brings
A cool from the heat
Making life fresh
And the air smelling sweet

Then the rain goes away
And the sun peeks out
The kids run outside
And jump, and scream, and shout

Out of the grey
And into the blue
The clouds are all gone
The day's bright and new

Copyright © Sean Taylor

Details | Quatrain | |

Pitter Patter

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.

©~GG~ 2012 
Entry for Tracie's Anything goes competition This is a Poem I have just done for a Magazine about when Queen Victoria died. 

Copyright © Mandy Tams The Golden Girl

Details | Rhyme | |


I love to feel the
wind on my face;
Bask in the warmth
of the sun’s embrace.
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 course,
But rain endeavors
to keep me whole
And helps to sustain
my very soul.

© 2011 Connie Marcum Wong

This poem was written to be metaphoric with the 
wind representing internal conflict, the sun having a 
calming effect and the rain quenching spiritual thirst. 
I am sure no one will get it, so I thought I would explain.

I have had recent eye surgery so my time on the computer is limited.

Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong

Details | Cinquain | |

Open Field - Visual 7

          Open Field - Visual 7

                 Bold tree
          Consumes landscape
      Cries on soft green carpet 
Tears rain on branches in the wind
               Grass sings

Create on 1/12/15 for – Andrea Dietrich’s “An American Beauty: Write Like Adelaide” Poetry Contest - (cinquain form 2,4,6,8,2 syllable count) 

Copyright © Earl Schumacker

Details | Concrete | |

Trip Twist

In the void, sipping the zoid,
with mental properties of tripping on the spiral.
Falling down the tail of lions, awkwardly spinning.
With upside down tunnel vision leaking through.

Solidifying all matter that matters,
melting into the walls of your brain.
It tickles all the raindrops dripping in your eyes,
satisfying your desire of a synchronized pattern.

Bleeding purple from the rainbow,
and turning into swirls of diamonds.
Slipping exuberantly beside you; driving you wild.
Where the shadows stop the spirited scream.

Devour yourself into the omniscient grip. 
Icy cold finger tips scratch the surface of your divinity,
bringing you closer to the God who whispered in your unborn ear,
situated in your flesh from birth to death.

It embeds itself in the pupil of your eye,
dancing with your spirit and licking your soul.
Black shapes of madness wrapped in chaos and euphoria.
Twinkling and blinking dust of a cloud. 

Haze filled skies and blood filled smoke raining from the clouds.
Envisions of clowns and demons laughing at our demise.
Chilling sensations of sickening mannerisms,
mechanisms and mechanics sought out to destroy the tiny creatures.

These creatures running crazy into acceptance of demise.
Deprived of life, scared of death but giving into it's taste.
Taste buds quiver as the taste grows sweeter.
Death, oh death, tell everyone who you really are...

Too long have you been hidden in the shadows you cast, 
too long have we rendered your pain.
The world grows sicker as the hairs in my head grey. 
I'll never surrender as demons always circle.

Today, begins a new day of our fight.
And I have a good feeling about this day. 
Onward, we have united our minds and gathered ourselves within. 
Always ready for we accept our fear. 

We accept our hate and everything in between.
Accept it all for what it really is. 
No amount of doubts will over throw us. 
Onward, to peace.

Copyright © Drew Rutherford

Details | Rhyme | |


The sun is shining
the flowers blooming
n I am dancing
with the butterflies.

The moon is winking
the stars twinkling
n I am dancing
with the fireflies.

The rain is falling
The fishes swimming
n I am dancing 
with the mermaids.

The birds are singing
dawn time's ringing
n I am dancing 
with the king's maids.

The sun is shining
the rain is falling
n I am still dancing
on and on.

I am still dancing
on and on.

Copyright © Maryam Jameela Haniff

Details | Cinquain | |

At Sunrise

Rinsed clean
yesterday's sun
tiptoes across the dawn
washed by last night's dream of rainbows

For Sara's Cinquain contest

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

Torrential Rain

Torrential rain tap danced upon the rustic tin roof of an old clapboard house, positioned down a winding country road. Rat-a-tat-tat went the translucent troupe, atop the roof, lulling the home’s inhabitants into a peaceful sleep. 

As nightfall prepared to exit, for its time had passed, daylight crept in with a sheet of haze and pushed rain and nightfall away. The old man on the moon begrudgingly gave way to a resplendent sun. 

Radiant sun filtered through the clouds, signaling the end of a turbulent rain. It crept inside windows covered with dander and dust and filled dark rooms with its illuminating light. The house, dead to slumber, became alive. 

Copyright © Valerie Staton

Details | Lyric | |

My Travels

My travels start 
Right here 
Deep in my mind
My travels take me just where
I please I don't have 
To leave my warm room

My travels start 
Sixteen sun
Beating down
Sinatra's crooning Jobim
And I'm just dreaming of my
Great romance to come

I don't need a little ticket
Tells me I can take the train
I don't even to risk it 
There's no blistering sun 
Or driving rain
And it's here that I remain

My travels end 
With a sweet 
And peaceful time
I've found such sense deep within
No more will I feel 
The need to go travelling again.

Copyright © Carl Halling

Details | Rhyme | |

A Rainy Dawn

A mere walk in the street with some old memories,
At a mute dawn with lighted bulbs;
Recalling again some old sceneries 
Sore retrospect running in my arteries.
Under the bridge I came; to wonder
Heard some drops falling on its top!
Declaring the demise of the silence hereunder
The rooftops began to crack by  the thunder.
A forlorn feather struggling to rest on a concrete.
When it found a sleeping puppy,
It slipped on his feet.
Contiguous to him- it took a seat.
I slithered over a perished  white paper,
 figured out it was a love note!
yearning to reach its friend ,from a weeper,
saying that-without her-he is a forsaken laker.
He also conveyed the conventions they made:
"We can conquer the world together."
"Thou art my harmony and my shade,
"so no farewell is to be bade."
Suddenly! a phantom of a  car drew near
And alas, I was in the middle of the road reading the note
I resigned to this feeling of fear.
And soon was a vapid body of a deer.
The last thing I glimpsed, was:
A worn out man on an old bicycle
-tattered though it was, it showed no flaws-
Waving at me; manifesting  his sympathy and awes.
I discerned there was no reason to survive
This venom of old grievances  
Decided to eat me alive!
And there was no cure to make me thrive..
Struggle-didn't I- to remain
No echoes of merry sounds to listen
No shadows of love, but pain,
Nothing alleviated my  heart's sprain.
I left the glass broken
And I seek no returning back.
So many words left unspoken
But the tale is not yet woven:
Because the rain was washing my dust!
It didn't want me to rust.
And the thunder was roaring for me
To look around and realize the glee!
The peacefulness by which the puppy slept
And the shelter offered for the feather to be kept.
The love note that made me believe love still exists,
And old is gold with the bicycle despite its twists                        
And now I could see the sun on the horizon,
I- with the whole sleeping world-has risen.

Copyright © Sandy Tadros

Details | Haiku | |

Haiku 9 - iguana on the treetops, mister spider, 6 am and falling rain

perched on the treetops iguana closes its eyes soaking in the sunshine the new doorkeeper of this deserted house - one mister spider 6 am and falling rain bed! how cosy you feel this morning

Copyright © john beharry