She briskly walks in January’s rain,
which drums the endless rhythm of her pain,
pulling closer round her shoulder in the downpour
the leather jacket he so often wore.
Another day like this she can remember
when he had worn the jacket, and against her
he’d pressed as they stood kissing in the rainfall.
The world could wash away; he was her all!
No storm could stop their loving as they raced
with great anticipation to his place.
Before they’d even reached the bedroom door,
they’d flung their rain-soaked clothes along the floor.
Underneath the sheets, though cold and wet,
they madly kissed. He was as passionate
as winter’s storm away from which they’d run,
and yet he warmed her like sweet summer’s sun!
She‘s almost home; the rain has nearly died.
She thinks of all the nights she lay and cried.
While thinking how the rainstorm’s cold still lingers,
inside the jacket’s pockets she moves her fingers.
In the lining of one pocket, her fingers meet
a crumpled piece of paper - an old receipt -
its date from when, without a word, he’d left their town
and in the city, by a drunk had got run down.
The piece of paper gives her now a revelation-
A high class jewelry store had been his destination.
He’d planned to ask her very soon to be his wife.
and bought a ring there on that last day of his life!
His parents gave his jacket to her, yet
she’d always guessed the worst for why he’d left.
What happened to the ring? She cannot know.
But now her tears with bitter sweetness flow.
For Skat's Epic Only Poetry Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
I have never seen a flower blush when I took it's hue
and held it there a prisoner captive to my view.
I have always heard the song that's in the autumn breeze
playing taps in harmony with the forest leaves.
I love the smell of rain that brings the springtime into bud
and swells my love of nature into a teeming flood.
I celebrate the cycle of the daytime into night
and find an equal blessing in the shadow and the light.
I've always felt affinity for all created things
and surrender to the pleasure that their beauty brings.
And though I could spent a lifetime sailing drops of dew
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've often sat myself by gentle mountain streams
and overflowed the dams that were holding back my dreams.
I've breathed the scented forest on the mountainside
and washed away my sorrows in an evening ocean tide.
I've laid down in a meadow and debated with the moon
and spent some quiet moments on the surface of Neptune.
I got married to a zodiac with one of Saturn's rings
then spied a super nova and went on a cosmic fling.
I've run away to nebulae in galaxy brochures
and bathed in scenes of wonders on distant planet shores.
Every cosmos in creation could parade before my view
but I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
I've never seen a tree once withdraw it's shade
and deny a creature the comfort of its aid.
I've never seen any anger in the sun at noon
when it burns relentlessly on the desert dune.
At sunrise I take an oath to live with all my might
and reinforce my gratitude each and every night.
I could spend some hours riding on a crystal flake
drifting wildly in a gale mindless of my fate.
Many times I've been through trials of wind and rain and snow
then sentenced to the splendors that the seasons show.
And though I've searched throughout creation, I must say this is true
I've never seen a universe as beautiful as you.
Copyright © John Wilowski | Year Posted 2012
Such contemplating that the poets do.
They sing of God, our spirits to renew.
With Mother Nature often they’re in tune
And offer up their verse to sun and moon.
They praise the sunset over a blue lake
While pondering man’s purpose, and they ache. . .
They ache for all that earth can never be,
For dreams they’ve lost, and for humanity.
And when they ache, their words are filled with pain
Which pour out from their soul like cleansing rain!
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016
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 ~
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Kiss The Rain
I dug the earth with sharpened blade
I turned it with that hefty spade
For hours my arms did sweat and toil
To prepare for you the soil
I made it smooth with my long rake
The stones remove and clods to break
I work to make your little heads
Warm and comfy in your beds
A furrow straight and deep I draw
And place you tender in that score
I cover you, make sure your firm
Hope your safe there with the worm
And so for now my toil is done
Its up to you the rain and sun
For I have done all that I know
To encourage you to grow
From time to time I look to see
If you have broken through for me
For I would love to see again
You soak the sun and kiss the rain
R D Seal 25 Feb 13
Copyright © Richard D Seal | Year Posted 2013
A solar wind caresses the mighty oceans blue,
Creates the waves, stirs the hearts of the true.
The spirit leaves the sea and floats on high,
To gather the dreams that make poets sigh.
When they reach saturation they at last take flight,
In search of lovers, adrift in the darkest of night.
Each dream a raindrop that freefalls though time,
Each drop a perfection, each dream sublime,
A prism to the soul or perhaps an angel’s tear,
As it floats and drifts, through the atmosphere.
Its colour and shape so clear and fragile,
Yet set on its course despite all the toil.
To replenish the land, refresh us each and all,
Oblivious to their beauty as they tumble freefall.
Each bead of perfection races to shatter,
On the land, its people and all that matter.
To wash the dry soil, to cleanse the city,
To grow the crops, dull the gritty.
Yet fail to heed its might and splendour,
When it can destroy, kill and can render.
There’s sorrow in those raindrops, so to glee,
It’s visible in its beauty-beast so plain to see.
As it gives life as it dies, a true resurrection,
The raindrop can certainly be a cruel perfection.
Copyright © Seosamh De Burca | Year Posted 2013
Saturday garage sale- moving to an old heritage apartment,
Years of collecting, but lots must go, even things of contentment.
Two china cabinets, one from Mom, one Grandma, they bring a smile,
Perhaps, I can somehow keep them in wall to wall old china cabinet style.
As I go through my many things and stuff, I say why did I ever get that,
Clothing gothic, retro and vintage lace, shoes, handbags, jewelery and hats.
A broken and battered old filing cabinet- it holds poetry written from my heart,
Need a new filing system for sure, should I sell them, NO we can never be apart.
Vases and vases, colorful and quite dusty in my window, quite useless,
Porcelain dishes from Grandma in my cupboards for years, lost in forgetfulness.
Old VHS movies, watched, outdated music and just loads, tons of stuff,
How does one say goodbye, garage sale Saturday, oh this will be so rough.
I think, I should hang on sign on myself, reading broken heart, for sale,
well suck it up as Grandma used to say and lets have a grand old garage sale.
September 8, 2012
Submitted to the contest, Any Couplet You Wish II
sponsor, Laura Loo
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2012
Noah heard the forecast and realised he must build an ark
It had to be impermeable for when they finally disembark.
They faced forty days and forty nights of torrential precipitation
Thank goodness Noah was constructing the ark for this situation
To invigorate Noah he could see the storm clouds were gathering
He knew that they must work quickly or they would get a battering
The requisite was it must be huge to hold animals and his family
When animals boarded two by two, it was a spectacular sight to see
When they reached dry land they were met with falling snow
Snow is formed by crystallization in case you didn’t know!
Water is essential to our daily life, we need it for our hydration
It is sent to us from heaven above – thank God for precipitation!
N/A in original contest - submitted to Screwed XIII sponsored by Rob Carmack
1 original, poem on the theme of THE ELEMENT OF WATER! The only limitations for this contest is that you must include these 6 words in your poem: 1) HYDRATION (2) REQUISITE (3) PRECIPITATION (4) IMPERMEABLE (5) INVIGORATE (6) CRYSTALLIZATION.
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
Today I wondered about the rain....
....I wanted it to rain again
The beauty of a chopped up sea
Cobalt turquoise harmony
Warm winds blow indigo Cirrus
Thunder crashes intensely furious
Golden skies mixed crimson setting
West I admire rain-clouds shedding
I miss that smell of rain and sea
With loud cracks of lightening~
Gems rolling against the sand
Treasures kept ....cupped in a hand
Walking along a wondrous fate
Losing my spirit ....I learned to hate
Focusd on a thought or a specific date
I felt sad inside...to have lost my mate
Finding myself in a storm cloud made
An impermeable will and internal shade
I've finally met the marvelous Sea
Stepping along the beach with me....
Had I stayed in my own little storm
Completely compelled to die or conform
I would not have come to realize...
...cannot touch today's skies
By Jane Bowen
Copyright © Jane Bowen | Year Posted 2009
With stars & moon, lovely sky glows in night,
with marathon race of clouds, day is bright.
From scarlet sky of morning sun grows best,
sky turns golden red, when sun takes rest.
Housing oxygen from trees, sky feels healthy.
Housing countless clouds, sky is wealthy.
The flight of a hungry eagle, looks like kite.
Waving trees at mountain top, hugs sky tight.
Birds fly happily chirping songs for the best,
sky is their paradise and tree is their nest.
After blasting crackers and showering nectar of rain,
sky marries ocean wearing splendid rainbow of heaven.
River sings nice after drinking heavenly juice,
Lovely sky is our friend, invigorated our cruise.
Air flows smooth making tide in water,
air is son of the sky, rain is his daughter.
Our flight flies better kissing rays of Sun,
our serendipity is bright,made life fun.
Don't try to pollute our blue bright ether,
Please never forget, pollution is our killer.
Copyright © Manmath Dalei | Year Posted 2016
“The Beauty Of The Rain”
As the sunlight hides our dreams cascade…
Floating clouds over the world we made…
Raindrops dance on naked wings…
Sounds whisper as passion sings…
A pulse felt without a touch…
Like a kiss caught from my clutch…
Held tight as lips embrace…
While hands speak, and hearts race…
We savor the taste and feel from the rain…
As two bodies pour from what remains…
Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2013
Tapping on my window pane
I heard the sighing of the rain
It poured down ever so fast
I didn't think that it would last
It came in sheets of vapor mist
Pounding the walls with its fist
As it gurgled down the gutter
It played havoc with the shutter
I smelt the scent of natures fury
It made me feel mighty leery
The rain lasted all night long
As it sang its endless song
Without adieu, it faded away
As I rose to start the day
Copyright © Karla Null | Year Posted 2009
I must be the world’s most happiest little fella
as I watch the stormy sky’ neath a polka dot umbrella.
The sky is such a curious thing
I love it when I hear the raindrops sing.
In Sunday school I learned why
we have rainbows in the sky.
It’s great when all those colors near me stop
over my head it’s like a great big lollypop.
I used to get scared, but not no more
when I hear the thunder rumble and roar.
My mom told me when that noise begins
it’s just the angels knocking down bowling pins.
Sometimes I chuckle and laugh with glee
when the wind’s fingers start to tickle me.
I like when it’s sunny and I get to play
but even when it rains, I still have a good day.
I must be the world’s most happiest little fella
as I watch the stormy sky ‘neath a polka dot umbrella!
submitted for Red and White Polka Dot Umbrella Contest sponsored by Eve Roper
Copyright © Carol Connell | Year Posted 2017
The sky is lying,
The sun is crying.
Copyright © Tiffiny Hagan | Year Posted 2015
The rains weave a silent story...
Uncertain whether of glee or misery...
The twilight is blurred by the relentless droppings...
That say a thousand ethereal things...!
Whether it is the revelry of rain...
Or the depression of lyrical pain...
The night emerges with a doubtful moon...
Unsure of the mood of the monsoon...!
On the ground,the leaves are spread...
Like a thousand soldiers dead...
And the street-light,too, wet appears...
It is hard to say if these are real tears...
The city still needs time to recover...
From the trauma of the testing summer...
But the monsoons have come like good news...
However the latent motives still confuse...
The streets are lonely like the skies...
Like the loneliness of deserted eyes...
Drop by drop,the rains keep falling...
As though the earth is silently calling...!
Amid the solitude and wet aura...
One could see the helplessness of flora...
The truth is still,largely,unclear...
But the departure of summer is something to cheer...
The monsoon is really unpredictable...
Whether it is a dream or a trouble...
Whether it is a break to monotony...
Or the messenger of some melancholy....!
Copyright © DEBASISH MISHRA | Year Posted 2013
A small romantic rain poem dedicated to hubby.
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare
"Ohhhh Rain..Shower again!!!!! "
Showering in the rain,
Draining the pain!
Enflueraging the essence of arenicolous sand,
Feeling blessed porting on this beautiful greenary land! Trees were roaming
under fiercing winds,
Thanks nature for benevolently so kind!
Sip of sizzling coffee With Caramalized sugar,
Cheers hubby to accompany me my gelling agar!
Wanna capture this Driplets of aromatic water nearby lake,
So that I can make an icy snowflake!
That's amazing, "but ohhhh God, I wish my honey is here".
Wrote by Mrs.Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
When it rains, human tears drench the heart and soul
When it rains, heavens tears washes away pain and sorrow
When it reins, there is control, mind rules over heart and soul
When it reins, direction and purpose will always play their role
When it reigns, choice vanishes, the heart submits to the mind
When it reigns, contentment rules, peace and joy you will find
Derek John Hamilton November 23,2015
Copyright © John Hamilton | Year Posted 2015
"I like it when it rains hard.
It sounds like white noise everywhere,
which is like silence but not empty."
And so it pours again
Tonight. Not champagne—
Just a cup of hot coffee
To drown what we used to be.
To the melody of white I weep,
Lying here so close to sleep;
With wet wings that can't fly,
Soaked clothes that won’t dry;
Rain that won’t cease:
Pain that won’t ease.
Copyright © Adam Adhistian | Year Posted 2013
Today my gift , a rainy day
Gray clouds with breezes play
Melody on the roof I hear
Symphony played this time of year
Cuddle down with a favorite book
This room a warm and cozy nook
Just for today I'll hide away
Letting nature and the raindrops play
Finally the shadows start to creep
And by the rain I'm lulled to sleep……
Copyright © Barbara Gorelick | Year Posted 2014
Raining cats and dogs, we didn’t want to get wet through
We dashed to the bus stop, to shelter as you do
There we huddled under the shelter as a cosy retreat
But a storm was brewing right under our feet
A lady held her umbrella up to protect her head
It was dry under the shelter but still she went ahead
She was twirling it round and poked a man in the eye
He wasn’t going to let this selfish action pass him by
He asked her very nicely to put the umbrella down
She got VERY irate and started to shout and frown
Soon expletives were flying- we moved out of the way
She cursed in Italian, we could understand what she did say
Umbrellas started flying- it turned into quite a fight
They were whacking each other with all their might
Suddenly a huge wave broke from the sea shore
We jumped out of the way to avoid any more
But the fight it continued and spilled on to the street
The words that were flying I could never repeat!
It was such a spectacle, everyone was staring
The foul mouth woman retreated but continued swearing
All she needed to have done was put her umbrella down
Sadly in reality she became the talk of the town.
A true event which happened on 1st November
2nd November 2015
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Again a small poem guys dedicated to my Darling hubby..
wrote by Mrs.Madhavi Suyog Pagare
Loving You is Blissful - My Darling Hubby
Twilighting glow of the sky..
Wanna fly so high..
Sparkling amidst the million stars..
chosen the crazy pal and so life is excellently par..
As like the blossom were kissed by soft rain..
Your arrival in life diminished all my pains..
God has entwined me..with my emarald diamonite gem..
Enlightening new vistas in life as like your next aim..
At an astounding pace time flew..
But When i didn‘t see you..I feel like..Life is been dew..
Your divine presence in life rejuvenates me..
Every tick of my heartbeat resonating wit your‘s or whatever it will be..
Your innumerable naughtiness made me silly..
But yep, your beautifying nature had an fragrance in life like lilly..
As like snow crested the nestled mountains..
You cuddled my persona..like a sip of fountains..
Being With you, Life is euphorically elated..
Full of high spirit and delighted..
Thanks for being accompanying me my theist..
Your admirer with lots n lots of Love:
Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013
In a cozy corner of my attic I sit
changing syllables for you, to lyrics
Perched on my window pane, tiger tabby
commenced cleaning its paws already
Soon, my zinc roof brings instrumental sounds
with rain that soothes my very soul
I pause; look out at dancing tamarind
leaves, drenched, yet holding in the wind
And I think to myself, how nostalgic
each moment; making me feel romantic.
Entry for SKAT A 'Poem You Wrote on a Rainy Day' contest
Copyright © Iris Elizabeth Sankey-Lewis | Year Posted 2016
Wind shield wipers streak a beat to passing poles
Tires create a soothing swish on dark slick roads
Watch for the jolt of hidden rain filled pot holes
Side street gutters overflow with the overload
Rain on the roof lays a rift of manic drumming
Looks like the rain is with us for a while
The radio prompts impromptu air guitar strumming
"Caution, wet road conditions for the next 10 miles"
Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014
Grey clouds the innocent sky ambushing light turns dark
stumbling over a tombstone opening up cold graves
When eyes become frozen behind scenes in hidden truth
as a weight deadens upon the shoulders without hope
A ghost from past experience consumes the present
and golden sands blacken beneath your feet fallen one
Deep undercurrents strains awaken in the ocean
Invisible cloaked dagger pierces without mercy
I pray waters calming find peace in this mortal frame
as the whirlpool of desires casts an ominous spell
Upon the sea of life Satanic storms enter Hell
and exudes within the malevolent clouds failure
Forgiveness stands at the crossroads beholden no more
within promise of a dream transparent through the rain
As yellow moonlight draws one pathway clearly cutting
brings you safely home to love under a fragile roof
Under black currents of loss when the heart returns beat
in the last teardrop sorrow remained faithfully loved
A Collaborated Poem written by Liam Mc Daid and Red Firey
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2016
So blinding is the rain this black and lonely night;
I now pull off the road—the deluge blanks my sight.
With steady beat it pounds, like icy hail on roofs;
its torrents loudly heard like giant, beastly hoofs.
Inside my auto's shell, afraid I wait alone,
in this, my shelter now—although, without a phone.
Though not too far from home, I feel abandoned, scared
on pitch dark country road, alone and unprepared.
The darkness, thunder, rain, transport me now to tears—
entrapped in this small space with claustrophobic fears.
The lightning streaks the sky, while thunder claps away—
like baby in a womb, curled up on seat I lay.
How monstrous is a storm that comes in dark of night
and works my adult mind to loneliness and fright.
What fragile soul am I, afraid of dark, alone
with nature's grand display, just praying to get home.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Nayda Ivette Negron
Contest: Rain and Dark, Isolated Places
Sponsor: Pendleton Arkwright
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2015
We would get used to the heat
If not for the body-armor.
We could always taste the dust
Which made it seem even warmer.
Ballistic sunglasses blocked the glare,
But didn't keep out the sweat.
The smell of raw sewage and rot
We would never soon forget.
I assumed the ground would be sandy,
But it was really all silt and clay.
There was so much fouled standing water
After their annual rainy season days.
The only time I wasn't over-heating
Was in January's rains in Mosul, Iraq.
After wading through so much filth,
I'm happy to never, ever, ever go back.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2014
How easy rain fall by its own weight
On a landscape that needs it.
It is October and the sky is lead grey
For too long it was uniformly blue.
I walk to the shops and enjoy the sound
Rain makes falling softly on my umbrella.
A forgotten lullaby remembered a song
Without words just a hush of tenderness.
Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2013
A summer rain arrived, unwelcome, cold and unannounced,
Spattering softly then louder, as if a hidden tiger had pounced.
I stared out of the window pane as the world turned silver-black,
With distorted reflections of lights from the thunder flash and crack.
A face stares back from the window, captured in each rain bead,
Like a fragmented, displaced reflection of a soul clinging to a need.
They wriggle down the window pane, as if searching for a course,
Like a hidden memory surfacing, loosening a mighty natural force.
Each bead a broken part of me or perhaps a fragment of my soul,
As it clings to the window pane, fighting and crashing as they roll.
Some they merge together as lover warriors against the world,
But they tumble fall to nothing as more raindrops are unfurled.
They softly flow away together, their identities lost from view,
Leaving the world so refreshed, fragrant as early morning dew
An order and a reason, portrayed so assured and so intense,
Rests behind its demeanour, its nature, is not an offence.
What of the different parts of me that are lost upon the pane?
They are washed away to nothingness and purified by the rain!
Copyright © Seosamh De Burca | Year Posted 2013
The bottom is a mottled
A city of roots from
Minnow flit from light to shade
The surface dappled an
intricate faux pas frieze.
Up ahead the stream winds
slowly out of sight
A magic portal to a time of
A gentle curve inviting me
To lose my shoes and search
for pirate treasure
It must have looked strange to
Me standing on an old wooden
Transfixed and staring at
I hope they believe in live and
Copyright © Joe Murphy | Year Posted 2014
hear the music from a gentle rain
as it taps upon the window pane
listen to the soothing beat
that gives recourse to days defeat
the bird that whispers just to you
while it sings the world a sweet adieu
telling of a secret place
where birds can die without a trace
the darkness at the edge of light
terror in a moonless night
buried deep within the days
the ashes left from life's cliches
tales of romance, risk and wonder
memories made from chance and blunder
living through life's raucous raves
while dead dreams lie in open graves
Written Dec. 16, 2016
Copyright © Francis J Grasso | Year Posted 2016