Best Rain Poems
Below are the all-time best Rain poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of rain poems written by PoetrySoup members
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Rain
Poem
Artillery Rain
~Perfect Rain~
ME!!
I can see!
All the tribulations around me!
I rage against the burning wind!
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice!
Everybody avoids to feels the smoke hidden within!
A rain so deep it burns all the enamel off my skin.
A rain that cut my soul in half!
Two piece that will never entwine or merge down my dragon path.
I feel this eternity has no ending blaze.
A trigger happy rain, extinguishing a bonfire around my rose.
I will sleep under the artillery stars tonight.
With the perfection of my fiery crystal lava teardrops.
Washing the ashes of my face,
suppressing the overwhelming fire.
Knowing no one will ever, "BLAME IT ON THE RAIN!"
As long as the torch keeps loading another artillery round.
pd
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Rain
Poem
Love Beyond the Pale
There you lay upon the ripe earth
torn from limb to limb.
Your shape betrayed the lingering girth
of the form you once had been.
Truncated tendrils mock your birth
about you ivy climbs,
my love for you evokes true mirth
but love does not end with time.
Now fallen, slain, cast for rebirth,
the core of you sublime,
an earthly stump, at forest skirt
a memory of grand times.
Yet, love lingers beyond base veils
and passion’s youthful prime.
I’ll wait for you beyond the pale
and you’ll return to be mine.
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Rain
Poem
Impact
Filled with a blend of bitter sweet
Steeped to a charming serving
He pours himself in lovely dose
The ones who are deserving
So proud of the delight he gives
His heart, there's no disguising
He breaks her down with every pour
without even realizing
Delicately draped in brittle lace
It doesn’t even matter
He lets her slip from his shifting grip
And the empty teacup shatters
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Rain
Poem
Umbrella
*I Will Cry*
If this world really mattered,
Why does it bleed?
I could tell you how much I love you,
But, that will never heal the pain.
I am never at peace.
Every day I cry for grace.
Every day my tears engrave a large hole.
A rich perfume redolent of rain-
-the only stain in my soul.
What has become of the sun?
Where have all the stars gone?
I am a sinner!
A tapper on the roof,
I fell without angel wings!
A small ripple that splashed into the pavement crack.
I couldn't be saved!
I am a lonely bard
I have no song to sing.
This empty ballad is my home.
A feathers against the dying wind-
-my only expression.
I will cry'
Raindrops from the sky.
Tears from a simple narrow-minded girl,
Water wept into this sorrowful world.
I will cry’
A view you can’t erase,
A window you can’t shut;
Tears you can't brush.
I will cry'
A river that flows into the night of days.
I will cry'
like a child, and nobody can take that away.
I will cry- once more...
No one will ever care,
That I cried!
PS..... Please remember the smell of earth after rain.
by;PD
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Rain
Poem
First Love
Returning home again after many years away
I find our secret path along the Fundy Bay
That happy place where long ago we played
Where all our dreams and promises were made
Once again I lie down where daises grow
In fields above the banks where salt winds blow
Golden memories rush through my hungry soul
Returning pieces of my heart lost long ago
I close my eyes recalling all the things we did
Just the way they were when we were kids
And I know without a doubt that you are here
As your love for me falls from my eyes in tears
We lie like angels looking up at clouds of cream
As we watch them take the shape of all our dreams
We laugh so hard at all the things we do and say
To us life is just a stage a place to laugh and play
We find the trail that takes us down to meet the ocean
Where we swim in waves of jubilant emotions
Then we walk along the shore together hand-in-hand
And we write our love forever in the sand
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Rain
Poem
In Strangler's Wood - tanka version
In forest dark where trees bend low
beneath a slice of half moon’s glow,
silent shadows waver there,
chilled by gusts of autumn air.
Quavering, as if afraid,
they fall on stumps from trees decayed.
among those stumps the shadows creep
and shroud a form that seems asleep.
Lightning flashes . . . Thunder peals.
A sight forlorn the light reveals
a man, quite dead, in woolen coat,
with scarf of death left on his throat.
The shadows saw, and now they quake,
lone witnesses in murder’s wake.
They cannot speak, but if they could,
they’d tell all travelers of the wood:
"We’re not the foe. It’s one of you
that makes us tremble as we do.
Although we loom and cause you fear,
something worse is lurking here."
Then Thunder echoes in accord
as from the sky, cold rain is poured.
And silent shadows start to shrink
into a night of blackened ink.
At a dead man’s throat
lies the rain drenched woolen scarf
that stifled his screams.
Cold Wind howls through decayed trees -
witnesses in the shadows.
For Debbie Guzzi's Metamorph Poetry Contest
a rhyming poem changed to a tanka
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Rain
Poem
This Poem Is How I Feel
Sometimes on the road of life
Change becomes the norm
When you think, “The sky is true”
The horizon brews a storm
Some storms last but a minute
Like a ship they sail right by
Other storms seem to be
As endless as the sky
Some storms come with a flood
As life gets washed away
Other storms shake the ground
As mountains crumble into clay
Storms come in many sizes
They come in many shapes
Storms come in many forms
Some bless while others rape
As we face the storms of life
They change who we are
Sometimes, we’re the clouds
Other times we’re the stars
Storms have one thing in common
One day they too shall pass
As a car rolls to a stop
Storms run out of gas
After the storm has passed us by
A seed sprouts to a flower
Each petal seems to be
Exuding strength and power
I have weathered many storms
Their lines map my face
In their wake I have found
Love is my saving grace
I don’t know what this poem means
I don’t know if I ever will
All I know is that right now
This poem is how I feel
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Rain
Poem
Rain and Stardust
.
****
** **
** **
** **
Furious with Zeus, a vengeful Hera searched the world
Until she discovered the most amazing young girl
~~A Native American with hair dark as the night
Atop a white steed she traversed mountains snowy white~~
“Let there be stardust,” the Goddess proclaimed with force
And the woman was stunned, soaring on a flying horse
“Let there be rain,” Hera chose to give her power
The girl rode above clouds, below her rain did shower
Forever Rain on Stardust would travel through the sky
With the powers of a Goddess as she rode on high
To shower blessings of rain on villages so dry
Rain sees the past and future, though she does not know why
The outcome surely not as Hera had intended
Zeus became enamored of Rain’s presence so splendid
He kissed the sky beneath her with bright rainbow arches
Today you still see them wherever Stardust marches
A Goddess rides now, but sweet Rain was once just human
And she remains bewildered by her own acumen
Olympian rulers outdone by their creation
For Rain and Stardust yet win human acclamation
~~%%%%%% _,_,
~~%%%%%% -"/./
~~%%%%%-' / `.
~~%%%%%%' . ,__;
~~%%%%%%' : \O\
~~%%%%%%' : `.
~~%%%%%%' `. _, '
~~%%%%%%' .'`-._ `.
~~%%%%%%%' : `-. (,;
~~%%%%%%' : `._\_.'
~~%%%' ;
*By Carolyn Devonshire
Entry for “Rain, the Story”
A contest sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
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Rain
Poem
What I Should Have Said Then
Remember that night, one of so many of course
When the waitress asked if we were on our first date
We’d talked for three hours till our voices were hoarse
The laughter we shared no one could create
It must have been the joy in our hearts she saw
For eighteen years there’d been no one who meant more
Never for a moment did our love withdraw
I joked and said it was the cologne you wore
Impotence had rendered you last in some eyes
But there was no man who made me happier
My affection for you never compromised
Of my self-worth, you were the certifier
The last time I saw your 95-pound frame
As you lay smiling in the hospice bed
My adoration I just could not proclaim
Couldn’t look back, still wanted to look ahead
My head on your hand, tears formed a puddle
So much in my heart, but at a loss for words
I waited for your angel as we cuddled
Finally they arrived, not one, they flew in herds
The spirit of contentment shone o’er your face
I swear to this day I saw your spirit rise
You faced your death with such dignity and grace
I could not bring myself to utter goodbyes
But now as I pray, the words finally come
“God blessed me with a special friend always true
And now as I hear heaven’s harps ever strum
I know there’ll never be another like you”
*For my dear friend Chris who died on Christmas Day 2005
Entry for Gareth's "Last Words to a Loved One" Contest
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Rain
Poem
Windowpanes
An ancient river, centuries-old shops and restaurants steeped in a 2000-year history and
culture set the scene. The ambiance seemed divinely contrived to facilitate the purposes of
our meeting and the very fodder from which the greatest poets are sustained.
Not newcomers to the area, Kay P. and I were assigned to the Army Security Agency Field
Station in Augsburg, Germany in 1974. We were colleagues in the intelligence community
with no romantic overtures to our relationship, save an appreciation of poetry and profound
philosophical discussions. Kay wanted to spend the evening with a poet, so we planned the
evening to be appropriate for the purpose.
At the time and place, we quickly found ourselves hopelessly immersed in the philosophical
foundations of my writings throughout the evening. It was the first time since Vietnam that
I'd felt worthy as a person. I still recall sipping the red wine and feeling the warmth of the
large hearth inside the Balkan eatery. I still see the swans gliding by on the Lech flowing by
our café.
When windowpanes begin to weep with autumn's chilly dew,
I'm taken back through seasons passed to one delight held true,
A rendezvous that time allowed, a gentle evening spent
Amid a time of long discord when days were dreary bent.
I feel the stretch upon my lips, the smile returns once more.
Again, I smell the Balkan fare prepared on Lech's old shore,
The mood is cast in high regard, the wine is tart and dry,
As Augsburg ripples in the wake when swans go gliding by.
The ancient windows frame our view and day begins to wane
As rivulets meander down and streak the dampened panes.
The ambiance of ages passed beseeched us not to leave
And held us in its warm embrace throughout the ebbing eve.
My heart was scarred, without regard and hardened by the war
But her esteem unveiled its worth, while nothing had before.
She saw the child that once was me, I'd long since cast aside,
And bade he climb astride his mount, engage his life and ride.
Now, she is but a memory, whose kindness soothed my heart,
For we embarked upon our lives on paths ordained to part.
Her subtle way escaped my eye till time had made it clear
That her esteem had set me free, that night I hold so dear.
The poetry that filled my soul remains these many years,
Impassioned in my warmest thoughts when autumn first appears,
When windowpanes begin to weep, a-glisten with the dew,
And I return to seasons passed, to one delight held true.
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