Best Fantasyrain Poems
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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
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*By Carolyn Devonshire
Entry for “Rain, the Story”
A contest sponsored by Constance La France ~ A Rambling Poet ~
I’m in need of a pot of gold so a rainbow I must find.
First a rain dance I must perform, I hope that you don’t mind.
It must be danced at the dawn of day, or as the sun does set,
Because when the sun lies low in sky the rainbows shine the best.
Now pots of gold are an Irish lore and I am not of that clan,
And rain dances are performed by the natives of our land.
I hope that mixing cultural norms does no real harm to me,
But I come from a boring lot with no fantastic mythology.
So I danced around chanting words I made up while I hop.
I did it on a cloudy day the weather man said the drought would stop.
I wore a green hat and leather spats and four leaf clovers in my hair,
I was amazed when through the haze a rainbow did appear.
I followed the rainbow with high hopes, praying I chose the right end.
I’m willing to share the gold with you and the rest of my friends,
But when the end I finally reached there was no pot of gold there,
Just unicorns, magical horns, and Medusa with snakes for her hair.
From heaven I fell in drop to swell,
Upon the waves of Loch Fyne.
From rain to girl, sand born in pearl
thus formed was I divine.
When first formed, I was Unicorn
And no name had such as I
But then the moon, the belewe moon
appeared and Rain rose I.
From rain, to pearl to Unicorn
to maid of Rain who cried.
Who rose, once more, a woman
at edge of ocean’s tide.
Upon the strand two horses ran,
two stallions side by side
each whiter than the abalone
the shell where she’d reside.
No longer could she race with them
all across the ocean's side,
she’d lost her horn and been reborn
in frailer form she hied.
Now, forelorn she rides astride
like a nyph, or virgin bride,
until that ole betrayer moon
returns she'll be not satisfied.
Contest/ Rain, The Story
By Debbie Guzzi
* A Blue moon is an extra full moon in a year.
Often there are many years between one blue/blewe
"betrayer" moon and the next.
7.
the leaf of jack-fruit is luxuriant
i can’t remember whether i ever notice
the portrait of your face on it
there are so many words
that are slippery
how much rustic is the dust of the legs
of the young person is known to the road of the city
daubing green on both palms
i call for rain …oh rain ..oh rain
and into that rain i let my wrist-watch float
thus the great rainbow unfolds its wise mirror
on the scaffold of bottle-gourd
from the bright cloth-end falling down
the odour of detergent
thus the applied mathematics of the diesel
is learnt to a greater extent
8.
behind the change of colour of the swelled wind
the samovar plays no role
though you know it you tear off tears
from your eyes
and the merry biscuits that are kept in the jar
raise a joint demand to serve them
after wrapping with new banana-leaves
and the funny thing is that no accounts is found out
of the expenditure on the lip-stick that was used
by the fishes in the aquarium at the time of illness
of the antenna
by the hands of the clock stretching their shanks apart
is it possible to know the actual age of a comb
either it’s costly or cheap
Rain the fair maiden rides her white horse across the sky.
She rides so swiftly that you can miss her with each eye.
This woman races across the heavens wearing a silky white gown.
Nobody can see her until after the sun goes down.
Rain can bring the people sorrow or mirth,
as she showers her bright sparkles upon the earth.
No, she is not a Rain of the cloud-bound kind.
Deep into space is where this Rain you will find.
by Robert Pettit Written for the contest "Rain, the story"