Best Patters Poems
Note the golden morning sun, red and orange, blue aeonian sky
Silver reflections of moonlight cast on dead of night still waters
Window light that shines so bright welcoming you at night
The way your smile reaches all the way up into your eyes
Smell the boulevards rain-washed and bitter-sweet, hot coffee
Spicy, earth-rich pipe smoke and baking chocolate chip cookies
Lovers embrace with musky skin, a dozen roses perfume is heady
That unique scent the very first time inside your brand new Chevy
The good sheets - 600 count - fresh from a hot dryer
Sitting in the window seat basking in the sunlight's heat
Long or short, with every stroke, snuggle-soft is kitten's fur
Favorite faded holey jeans, shoes no one else would wear
Good morning songs from birds nearby, kitten's rumble purr
Soothing rain patters on the roof then booming rolls of thunder
Chirping frogs and bugs in grasses, the chattering leaves in trees
Waves that lap upon the sand, a sexy spoken please
This group of friends who share
with open minds that care
Patiently listening
Always there
may I always be aware.
The asphalt driveway is blackened over by rain
sand bags lie in the corner of the garage in case water creeps in, some sheep scurry in distant fields
Your elephant eyes are locked on the TV; 55 inches of electronic love
I liked lying under the moonlight on summer nights as moths danced towards the patio light I remind myself in melancholy moods, child please don’t cry, every season changes
Your vehicle’s mileage spans out to El Dorado’s grave and back
The snares of your life keep drumming it’s slower now, consistent patters; the TV is staring back at you copper pennies lie in wait beside your remote control, everything has a place with you
If I could tie a rope around your Will I would direct it towards my family, we are hopeful you will see us, and remember tossing your children in the air, serving crepes every Christmas morning and the brick house you lived in with your wife for more than two decades, a pool of tumbling memories without all the injures, it is ok to feel free, to be a part of a living zoo
thunder rumbles past our yellow one-story apartment, somewhere swans sleep unaware of rain
swaying slowly when you stand, I’m starting to realize God balances us all out
cement like air fills my lungs as the newscaster gets soaked by yet another wave
staring blankly, you blink at the angel food cake on the counter and shuffle on, towards the Rio Grande
bones of drowned years clamber past Nevada, Arizona, all the tumble weed states
falling forward we catch ourselves each day, we shade our eyes from the glaring sun, as the dust gathers below the Grand Canyon
you shuffle in and switch the channel, the trumpets settle in my heart as you ask, how did it go today?
As the rain patters on the roof,
It speaks to me, new things to know
Soothing my soul, as darkness falls
Nothing left, but the wind to blow
Patter, patter, a rhythmic tune
May help me sleep into the night
My thoughts a river, in a way
Not as scattered to find what’s right
And as I rest to this new song,
I decide that I will let go
Of the worries sown by the day
Into pleasant dreams, I will flow
As the rain patters on the roof,
Mother Nature becomes my friend
Holding me with such pleasant sound
Just so, my broken heart will mend
Heidi Sands
5/6/21
One of 1st placements in All Yours (May 7) Poetry Contest. Sponsor: Brian Strand
A branch breaks dried by the sun
withers and dies thrown on the fire
burning remains sweet pearls silver sparkling
a terrible sadness enters the window
a willow weeps pitter patter knocking
sins came to visit last night
blowing against the wind
drooping heavy darkness
putting right the wrongs
was more than one could bare
grey clouds rains burning
trails of hurt shadows of reality
a dream snatched away
by judgement
scratches on chamber walls
weeps the willow entwines in limbs
an inescapable embrace
in one's own heart
a sanctum darkened
by wrong's lament
mind's rumblings tells tales
clouded thoughts chase the wind
shadows shifting dark and light
reality pays a visit
in moon's grey glow
seeking soul's atonement
for what was done
a heavy price reaped
for burnt ashes and dusty remains
impossible sleep
rain's lullaby hush
pitter patters against the pane
a calming rage gives way
to sweet nightmares of relief
Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler
Rushes to the window
with every pitter-patter
but it is only the rain
crashing into me
trying to wash away my pain
reminding of sunny days
where the pitter-patter
was the beating of my heart
where love was never sought
but happily was found
my heart breathes
feeling once more
your tenderness
pitter-patters run across
the oaken hardwood floors
and I see in her your smile
your love
your heart
The rain and my tears fall
yet I know
most go a lifetime without true love
but no not me
my heart goes pitter-patter
one last time
butterflies float away into my soul
and I remember
I loved you
A branch breaks dried by the sun
withers and dies thrown on the fire
burning remains sweet pearls silver sparkling
a terrible sadness enters the window
a willow weeps pitter patter knocking
sins came to visit last night
blowing against the wind
drooping heavy darkness
putting right the wrongs
was more than one could bare
grey clouds rains burning
trails of hurt shadows of reality
a dream snatched away
by judgement
scratches on chamber walls
weeps the willow entwines in limbs
an inescapable embrace
in one's own heart
a sanctum darkened
by wrong's lament
mind's rumblings tells tales
clouded thoughts chase the wind
shadows shifting dark and light
reality pays a visit
in moon's grey glow
seeking soul's atonement
for what was done
a heavy price reaped
for burnt ashes and dusty remains
impossible sleep
rain's lullaby hush
pitter patters against the pane
a calming rage gives way
to sweet nightmares of relief
Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler
A mind puzzled by distortions around,
To extreme patters like vast stars when burst.
It spins abstracted in squares, all around;
Like a wild beast dying of utmost thirst.
Thoughts spin like a large spiral galaxy.
Words mixed up, locked in the back of the mind.
Life swings like stones defying gravity,
Carried around the world by the north wind.
Will you revive the memories so fond?
Laid on a bed of undying roses?
Will you thrive to bring back the divine bond?
Before this disturbed mind ride six horses?
Upon dreams beyond imagination,
The restless mind awaits your affection.
Listen to the sound the rain makes,
As it drums out it's own special tune;
Tapping a mystic melody,
On windows and roof tops and dunes.
Lulling the weary traveler,
And soothing the cares of the day;
Calming the troubled spirit,
And chasing my blues away.
Pattering 'gainst my window,
It chases away my frown,
As with warm cup of tea and a blanket,
I hurry to get settled down.
Outside the rain patters merrily,
Inviting me come out and play.
Inside I'm cozy and comfy,
I'll go out some other day.
For now I'll enjoy the music,
On rooftop and window panes.
All comfy and warm I'll sit her and watch,
As raindrops play little games.
Scurrying 'cross my window,
And making small rivers and streams,
As children in bright colored raincoats,
Chase paper boats through my dreams.
Put away your bathing suit the dips in the pool are done
get the rake out of the garage, jumping in the leaves is fun.
The Halloween decorations include the ginormous spider;
exchange the ice-cold lemonade for hot apple cider.
The summers end raced tirelessly to the full autumn stop,
and the rain chills more with each pounding drop.
The heat of the sun fizzles out with each windy howl,
and the moon glared its face with an ice cold scowl.
Early fall boast trees with the most fiery bright hue
but time marches on colors become brown and gray stew.
Around the campfire people gather around and sing
as a church group leader strums his six strings.
Autumnal is the transition from summer to winter
Its weather patters are nestled in the center.
The Moonbeam Mari Anne
A poem by Brett Somers
The moonbeam graced the Austin sky,
The Mari Anne spirit whisking by. Spreading her love,
Her mysterious zest,
Manifesting turquoise upon my chest.
And back she slipped,
Beyond Austin she skipped,
Like a stone on placid waters,
The sound of her pitter patters.
Swoops into New York and settles in.
A jeweler of bead and pin,
Crafting her Mari Anne,
For yet another grateful and devoted fan!
This poem is dedicated to the gifted jeweler and accomplished graphic designer Marianne Walther!
-From WinkofHeart ;)
Dark clouds hovered around
And no one was assured
Of the next events
The striking lighting ensued
And thunder
Slapped two birds against each other
With frightening clatters
The stage was set
And the elements waited
Like soldiers on guard
Then the silvery ropes cascaded down
With heavy patters
That turned the deserts
Into smiling savanna.
Alayande Stephen T.
September 12th 2005
1.05pm
Drip, then another and another, pitter-patter,
Rain tapping at my windowpanes.
Darkness and whiteness of winter washed away.
Windows opened, breathing in sweet spring rains.
A feeling of newness blossoms deep within.
It seems it's contagious, clearly spring has sprung.
For when the rain stops, puddles do sit about.
Wet pavement sounds, slaps, steps and squish.
Squeals of delight from little patters with their rubber boots.
Puddle-jumpers, splish-splash, resonating me with joy.
Aah, life as is, with the sweet spring rains.
03/25/2013
For Russell Sivey's contest, " Spring Showers"
Kitty Katy, bigger than holsteins
Killed a St. Bernard
Pretty Kitty scratched up my blue jeans
Left my legs all scarred.
My big kitty scares the bejabbers
Out of my sorry hide
Such loud thuds of her pitter-patters
The blood-prints of her stride.
What did she kill tonight?
Who did she rend and bite?
What did she eat?
What kind of meat?
When must I stand and fight?
Kitty wrestled an anaconda
Then ate just the head
I took off on my cherry Honda
Scared I'd next be dead.
The rain patters down
Sending goose bumps across flesh
My blue lips are numb
Her azure eyes shine
Like crystals catching the sun
Even in this rain
My hide is soaked
It is on the line for her
The cold bite goes numb
Drawn in my jacket
Her eyes beaming at me
Blue eyed paradise.
A still night;waiting
rain patters on the window
siren howls and wails.