Best Patter Poems
rushing waters fall
as of sweet rhythmic curtains,
draping moss and stone
Submitted for Raul Moreno's "Rhythm of The Falls" contest.
The pitter-patter of drops drum,
like the beat of a soulful heart.
While raindrops leave you feeling glum,
the pitter-patter of drops: drum.
And I fear, there's more rain to come,
waiting for the sunshine to start.
The pitter-patter of drops drum,
like the beat of a soulful heart.
Waiting for the sunshine to start,
laughter can no longer be heard.
I sense the mood grey skies impart,
waiting for the sunshine to start.
And as our smiles slowly depart,
we share the gloom without a word.
Waiting for the sunshine to start,
laughter can no longer be heard.
We share the gloom without a word,
watching the trees sway in the breeze.
As the mist ensures views are blurred,
we share the gloom without a word.
And the softest sound ever heard;
morphs into silence, of unease.
We share the gloom without a word,
watching the trees sway in the breeze.
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.
Pitter patter on my window
sun shine bright
Make me a rainbow to last through the night
I once met a Spanish high flyer
She wiggled and danced on a wire
Her pitter once pattered
Grew ninety pounds fatter
And now she sings bass in a choir.
Feb 4 2020
Daniel Turner
Evoke and pray to Gods Varun* and Indra*
And to Apollo not to go on long vacation
Play hide and seek with the earth as kids do
And bring a rainbow with its rich colors to see.
Do not bring mausim** in excess
Even Nectar consumed in excess
Or any overdose creates havoc.
Bringing epidemics and floods
Destroying infrastructures.
Let the earth look as fresh as
A young girl after her shower.
Let creativity bloom for poets
To write poems on rain, as I do.
As it did to Shakespeare and Kalidas*
To write The Tempest and Meghdootam*
Two masterpieces of the two bards.
I hear thunder, I hear thunder
Don’t bring misery and hunger.
Kids be ready with your raincoats
Find the papers to make paper boats
Wearing the gumboots.
The Eastern winds beat me
As does the storm of my soul
I know, the storm fades away soon
Monsoon is still inside and outside.
+++
September 9, 2014
Form: Verse
Dr. Ram Mehta
First Place Win
Contest: Rainy Days by Leonara Ghalinta
*Varuna and Indra are the Aryan rain and storm gods respectively in Hinduism.
*The term 'monsoon' is derived from the Arabic word mausim which means a time or a season
*The great Indian dramatist Kalidasa wrote Meghdoot symbolically using clouds as
messenger. *Shakespeare too wrote The Tempest keeping thunderbolt and its implications in mind..
The rain is falling
Pitter Patter
I sit on my porch and rock
My Pinot noir slips and shatters
The angry winds mock
I retrieve my lighter from the kitchen
Foolishly expecting to smoke
The enraged wind is full of tension
A gush of rain blew in to soak
My face wore a blank expression
In hopes the storm would taunt another
Portrayed myself oblivious to its aggression
We had a rivalry between each other
The rain is falling
Pitter Patter
I lie in my bed and watch the ceiling drip
A pot to catch the fallen water
Determined to go down with my ship
The storm refuses to cease
Floods consume the bottom level
My home falls apart piece by piece
The very foundation begins to bevel
The rain is falling
Pitter Patter
It rolls off the sides of my face
The storm rolls on, but it doesn't matter
This is a deserted place
The pitter-patter of the raindrops
When storm clouds come rolling in and lightning fills the sky
And the wind begins to blow as the sun waves its’ own goodbye
The pitter-patter of the raindrops as they begin dancing in the street
Not caring where they fall and not caring who they meet
One drop rolls down my forehead as rolls down my cheek
Each one so cold and wet and yet each one is so unique
They join their hands together as they cover the world below
They make the grasses greener and they make the flowers grow
My friend you’re like the raindrop that I catch upon my tongue
Of all the many raindrops I knew that you were the only one
That would chase away the thirst and the troubles from my past
I searched a million raindrops and found the perfect one at last
You make the grasses greener and the flowers start to grow
You are the perfect raindrop and you make happiness fill my soul
So when you hear the thunder and the rain begins to dance
Run out in the street and don’t miss your only chance
I thank God for the storm that brought a raindrop in my life
She chased away the dryness and she chased away the strife
To catch that perfect raindrop is a treasure all its own
One that stays with you forever and makes your heart her home
You can read more of my poems in my book The Writings of an invisible man. Its on amazon.com. You can also watch my video on youtube just search for hlhsdad39 to understand my story and why i write
****
Her name is Miss Pitty Patter.
She's the concrete goose outside.
She's quite a fashion statement.
as she adorn the stoop with pride
Although she doesn't say anything,
She greets you with a smile.
She's quite the talk of the neighborhood.
as she sports the latest styles.
The other day, a flock of geese flew by.
One dropped into say hello
He honked and fluffed his feathers,
"Howdy there! little lady, My name is Joe."
.
"Honk"--"Shall we go for a walk?"
"Honk"-- "I really like your style."
Miss Pitty, Let's sit down and we'll talk.
He did a little dance, and she gave him a smile.
Miss Pitty, "You are quite a handsome looker,
But your heart is made of stone. "
"I believe this relationship is over,"
as he flew off all alone.
Miss Pitty Patter frowned.
Written 11-10-21
Pitter-Patter on my Heart
Do not believe that your size in any way
diminishes the depth of my affection for you.
Some may say you are mere eating-pooping machines
but ever since you traipsed into my life a year ago
you’ve been pitter-pattering high and low
weaving circles all around my heart,
and your joyful ‘popcorn’ jumps
bring color to my dreams.
From you I know I couldn’t live apart.
Even your failed escapes from
the kitchen into the lounge where
I in vain try not to lose sight of you
tug at my old forgiving heart.
My duties to you I do not take lightly,
and know, Coco, Phoebe, that you can always
nibble at my paws, just remember to pause before
any mild irritation you should cause. And please
forgive me if on occasion I stare enviously
at bits of carrots and apples for some
reason they won’t let me share;
but fear not, for parsley and
cilantro I do not care.
Now let me clear the air,
whoever thinks that love and friendship
reside in the human heart alone
has never met you and me
my chatty little piggies.
Your loving canine friend,
Sasha
P.S. Please, do no pine for your birthplace in the Andes,
that’s a smoke dream that could only turn you
into some deep-fried or grilled
Peruvian delicacy.
The Pitter-Patter of Rain
I sit here on the porch listening,
Watching the rain in the night.
Pitter-patter on my roof,
I thought about all I have gained,
Over all these years of life,
As all I have lost and gone,
As if water washed it all away,
Oh maybe it was all the people,
And the circumstance that did,
Never to be found,
retrieved nor replaced again,
The only thing to mend my heart,
To fill the emptiness within me,
Is Jesus as He had promised,
As the rain kept falling into the night,
as tears from my heart for you,
As I was comforted by the pitter-patter,
As the footsteps returning,
faces to see again,
Words left unspoken,
now are able to be said
In this life there is only once chance,
To fully make it right,
- Resolution and completion -
Only you know when it can happen,
A presence in life suddenly washed away,
Only to return in dreams,
When my eyes have shut….
To the pitter-patter of rain,
Falling in the night.
Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2017
paper is meant for messages
chairs are meant for sitting
water is meant for life
and truth is meant for living
sometimes exits close
sometimes we have no choice
those directions that times pose
guides the living that I voice
fields of wild flowers
the rustling of trees
nature shows God's will
seeking, stirred up by the breeze
Trials as solid diamond
more solid than graphene
both melt in great temperature
heat not stronger than this queen
resilience meant for trials
birth is meant for new
brings change meant to alter
old fallacies that grew
Great Basin Bristlecone Pine
Can one change as time goes on?
Or do I cut down the growth
til unwillingness is gone?
mirrors meant for reflection
a caress meant for affection
I'm meant for a new resurrection
for a new life connection
The drizzling of rain
the patter as it falls
I hear drops of a new life
thru rebirth as it calls
Bow to the partner in the corner
Hey, this dance ain't nothin' but torture!
Heads lean left and circle to a line
Guzzle down that old moonshine!
Roll away to a half sashay
Get down on your knees and pray.
Circle round and round with the dear little thing
but for God's sakes don't let her sing!
Meet your partner and promenade
Slip a little 'shine in the lemonade!
Allemande left with your left hand
Drop him in a big box of quicksand!
Pitter Patter, pitter patter, pitter patter; I heard the sound of tiny feet
I turned around only to see the biggest spider you ever want to meet
If things couldn't be worse than to meet a spider that was that grand
With three pairs of gaited shoes and a black walking stick in his hand
I really don't want to trouble you Sir, but I seem to have lost my way
I have a good friend General Beatle, he's asked me to come and stay
He sent me a letter with his address; but I seem to have gone astray
On seeing the letter, I pointed South, then sent the spider on his way
Never in my life have I seen such a spider that stood over six feet tall
Who is off to visit General Beatle; down yonder, at the Fox Manor Hall
I found a bench where I sat awhile, whilst digesting this very thought
Then ran to the nearest public house, where a large whiskey I sought
When again did I not hear the sound of pitter patter of some tiny feet
With arms wide open; General Beatle and that spider did on me greet
Now, all of you may think, that this story is rather more than strange
But, when you are just an ant, I am far from thought of, as deranged
Indiana Shaw . . . ; )
Pitter patter little feet
come to take a little peek.
Come to seek
my pain to eat.
Filling up with every weep.
Pitter patter come with me
look upon and you will see
all the pain that's inside me.
Pitter patter runs and leaves
always playing hide and seek
with the little ones that's meek.
Founders keeper little feet
you sure you want to stay with me?
Written: June 27,2016
5:31 am