Get Your Premium Membership

Famous Short Storm Poems

Famous Short Storm Poems. Short Storm Poetry by Famous Poets. A collection of the all-time best Storm short poems


by Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.



by Sarojini Naidu
 Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow,
 The sunset hangs on a cloud;
A golden storm of glittering sheaves,
Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves,
 The wild wind blows in a cloud.

Hark to a voice that is calling
 To my heart in the voice of the wind:
My heart is weary and sad and alone,
For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone,
 And why should I stay behind?

La Mer  Create an image from this poem
by Oscar Wilde
 A white mist drifts across the shrouds,
A wild moon in this wintry sky
Gleams like an angry lion's eye
Out of a mane of tawny clouds.

The muffled steersman at the wheel
Is but a shadow in the gloom; -
And in the throbbing engine-room
Leap the long rods of polished steel.

The shattered storm has left its trace
Upon this huge and heaving dome,
For the thin threads of yellow foam
Float on the waves like ravelled lace.

by D. H. Lawrence
 Outside the house an ash-tree hung its terrible whips,
And at night when the wind arose, the lash of the tree 
Shrieked and slashed the wind, as a ship’s 
Weird rigging in a storm shrieks hideously. 

Within the house two voices arose in anger, a slender lash
Whistling delirious rage, and the dreadful sound 
Of a thick lash booming and bruising, until it drowned 
The other voice in a silence of blood, ’neath the noise of the ash.

by Charles Baudelaire
 Peace in thy hands, 
Peace in thine eyes, 
Peace on thy brow; 
Flower of a moment in the eternal hour, 
Peace with me now. 

Not a wave breaks, 
Not a bird calls, 
My heart, like a sea, 
Silent after a storm that hath died, 
Sleeps within me. 

All the night's dews, 
All the world's leaves, 
All winter's snow 
Seem with their quiet to have stilled in life's dream 
All sorrowing now.



by Dorothy Parker
 For this my mother wrapped me warm,
And called me home against the storm,
And coaxed my infant nights to quiet,
And gave me roughage in my diet,
And tucked me in my bed at eight,
And clipped my hair, and marked my weight,
And watched me as I sat and stood:
That I might grow to womanhood
To hear a whistle and drop my wits
And break my heart to clattering bits.

by Emily Dickinson
 A Cap of Lead across the sky
Was tight and surly drawn
We could not find the mighty Face
The Figure was withdrawn --

A Chill came up as from a shaft
Our noon became a well
A Thunder storm combines the charms
Of Winter and of Hell.

by Sara Teasdale
 There is no magic any more,
 We meet as other people do,
You work no miracle for me
 Nor I for you.

You were the wind and I the sea --
 There is no splendor any more,
I have grown listless as the pool
 Beside the shore.

But though the pool is safe from storm
 And from the tide has found surcease,
It grows more bitter than the sea,
 For all its peace.

by Rainer Maria Rilke
 I am like a flag in the center of open space.
I sense ahead the wind which is coming, and must live
it through.
while the things of the world still do not move:
the doors still close softly, and the chimneys are full
of silence,
the windows do not rattle yet, and the dust still lies down.

I already know the storm, and I am troubled as the sea.
I leap out, and fall back,
and throw myself out, and am absolutely alone
in the great storm.

by Robert Burns
 FRIDAY first’s the day appointed
By the Right Worshipful anointed,
 To hold our grand procession;
To get a blad o’ Johnie’s morals,
And taste a swatch o’ Manson’s barrels
 I’ the way of our profession.
The Master and the Brotherhood
 Would a’ be glad to see you;
For me I would be mair than proud
 To share the mercies wi’ you.
 If Death, then, wi’ skaith, then,
 Some mortal heart is hechtin,
 Inform him, and storm him,
 That Saturday you’ll fecht him.ROBERT BURNS.Mossgiel, An. M. 5790.

Echoes  Create an image from this poem
by Emma Lazarus
 THE MIGHT that shaped itself through storm and stress
In chaos, here is lulled in breathing sweet;
Under the long brown ridge in gentleness
 Its fierce old pulses beat.


Quiet and sad we go at eve; the fire
That woke exultant in an earlier day
Is dead; the memories of old desire
 Only in shadows play.


We liken love to this and that; our thought
The echo of a deeper being seems:
We kiss, because God once for beauty sought
 Within a world of dreams.

by Robert Bly
Darkness is falling through darkness 
Falling from ledge
To ledge.
There is a man whose body is perfectly whole.
He stands the storm behind him 
And the grass blades are leaping in the wind.
Darkness is gathered in folds
About his feet.
He is no one. When we see
Him we grow calm 
And sail on into the tunnels of joyful death.

by Christina Rossetti
 SAFE where I cannot die yet, 
 Safe where I hope to lie too, 
Safe from the fume and the fret; 
 You, and you, 
 Whom I never forget. 
Safe from the frost and the snow, 
 Safe from the storm and the sun, 
Safe where the seeds wait to grow 
 One by one, 
 And to come back in blow.

by Thomas Hardy
 (A Reminiscence, 1893)

She wore a 'terra-cotta' dress,
And we stayed, because of the pelting storm,
Within the hansom's dry recess,
Though the horse had stopped; yea, motionless
 We sat on, snug and warm.

Then the downpour ceased, to my sharp sad pain,
And the glass that had screened our forms before
Flew up, and out she sprang to her door:
I should have kissed her if the rain
 Had lasted a minute more.

by Walt Whitman
 RACE of veterans! Race of victors! 
Race of the soil, ready for conflict! race of the conquering march! 
(No more credulity’s race, abiding-temper’d race;) 
Race henceforth owning no law but the law of itself; 
Race of passion and the storm. 5

by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
 Sunshine let it be or frost, 
Storm or calm, as Thou shalt choose; 
Though Thine every gift were lost, 
Thee Thyself we could not lose.

by Emily Dickinson
 The rainbow never tells me
That gust and storm are by,
Yet is she more convincing
Than Philosophy.

My flowers turn from Forums --
Yet eloquent declare
What Cato couldn't prove me
Except the birds were here!

by Rudyard Kipling
 Oh! hush thee, my baby, the night is behind us
And black are the waters that sparkled so green.
The moon, O'er the combers, looks downward to find us
At rest in the hollows that rustle between.
Where billow meets billow, there soft by the pillow.
Oh, weary wee flipperling, curl at thy ease!
The storm shall not wake thee, no shark shall overtake thee
Asleep in the storm of slow-swinging seas.

Time  Create an image from this poem
by Percy Bysshe Shelley
 Unfathomable Sea! whose waves are years,
Ocean of Time, whose waters of deep woe
Are brackish with the salt of human tears!
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow
Claspest the limits of mortality,
And sick of prey, yet howling on for more,
Vomitest thy wrecks on its inhospitable shore;
Treacherous in calm, and terrible in storm,
Who shall put forth on thee,
Unfathomable Sea?

by Rainer Maria Rilke
 Whom will you cry to, heart? More and more lonely,
your path struggles on through incomprehensible
mankind. All the more futile perhaps
for keeping to its direction,
keeping on toward the future,
toward what has been lost.

Once. You lamented? What was it? A fallen berry
of jubilation, unripe.
But now the whole tree of my jubilation
is breaking, in the storm it is breaking, my slow
tree of joy.
Loveliest in my invisible
landscape, you that made me more known
to the invisible angels.

by Edward Thomas
 NOW first, as I shut the door, 
I was alone 
In the new house; and the wind 
Began to moan. 

Old at once was the house, 
And I was old; 
My ears were teased with the dread 
Of what was foretold, 

Nights of storm, days of mist, without end; 
Sad days when the sun 
Shone in vain: old griefs and griefs 
Not yest begun. 

All was foretold me; naught 
Could I foresee; 
But I learnt how the wind would sound 
After these things should be

by Thomas Carew
 Give me more love or more disdain; 
The torrid, or the frozen zone,
Bring equal ease unto my pain;
The temperate affords me none;
Either extreme, of love, or hate,
Is sweeter than a calm estate.

Give me a storm; if it be love,
Like Danae in that golden show'r
I swim in pleasure; if it prove
Disdain, that torrent will devour
My vulture-hopes; and he's possess'd
Of heaven, that's but from hell releas'd.

Then crown my joys, or cure my pain;
Give me more love, or more disdain.

by Regina Derieva
 Beyond Siberia again Siberia,
beyond impenetrable forest again forest.
And beyond it waste ground,
where a blizzard of snow breaks loose.

The blizzard has handcuffs, and the snow-
storm has a knife which kills at once....
I will die, pay a debt
for others who live somewhere,

out of spite, out of fear and terror,
out of pain, out of a nameless grave....
Beyond the wall another wall,
on the wall stopped dead one sentinel.

by William Blake
 O Rose thou art sick.
The invisible worm.
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

by Katherine Mansfield
 In the profoundest ocean
There is a rainbow shell,
It is always there, shining most stilly
Under the greatest storm waves
That the old Greek called "ripples of laughter."
As you listen, the rainbow shell
Sings--in the profoundest ocean.
It is always there, singing most silently!


Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry