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Rain Sun Poems | Sun Poems About Rain

These Rain Sun poems are examples of Sun poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Rain Sun 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


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', ...be 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


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.


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


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
2/7/2014


Details | Lyric |

Rainbows

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.


Details | Rhyme |

Rain

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.


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.


Details | Epic |

Scent of Paddy Flower

Scent Of Paddy Flower

                                   By Goutam Hazra

           1
Reminiscence

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.
            
             2
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
there
everywhere.
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 
beautiful
simple
with the scent of paddy flower.”
           
             3
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.”

Question 
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
treacherous
roaring always
pouring unwanted
like an unkind monster
flooded misery
in the life of a simple farmer?
           
            4
Relinquishment

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.

But… 
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’.
Modification
innovation
sophistication
but I found the basic
what it remain
as life’s supreme conviction 
‘simply a fist full of paddy
and its grain’.

             5
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 
beautiful
simple
with the scent of paddy flower.”

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




















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. 


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