Best Rainwater Poems
O April
how I’ve longed for your return
to breathe new life
into this gnarled body..
for these roots to be unfettered
from the grasping earthen frost -
the past season of fanged nor’easters gnashed
me bare - leaving me mauled and dulled
alone with stiffened limbs
lifted to face
the hard glower of old man winter
with not a morsel of mercy to be gained
but April
now that you're here to share
the innocence of the daisy
and the honeyed scent of the sweet pea
I feel inspirited like a sapling young and tender again;
mild is the fog’s embrace in early morn
as I taste your sweetened rainwater
and gentle is the rhythm of baptizing
showers bathing dark days away..
and ever grateful is my grayed heart
as it begins to beat
with the fresh pulse of verdant rebirth
oh April
how easily you inspire
my shy imagination to fly
with the zephyr's muse
to expand my artistry
in an afternoon’s brushstroke of forsythia light
dreams once frozen now thawed and golden
eager to flourish in bloom
awakening the poetry
in a new leaf’s unfurling whisper -
a whisper that grows a praising wind-psalm
as choirs of bursting buds
celebrate revival
with a rustling alleluia!
star-shaped sails rouse in swishing sounds
their leafy lyrical breath one with the breeze
my green-laden boughs now a wellspring
of exuberant born-again voices
a thronging rejoice lifted
to the heavens on the whisk of the westerlies;
supple is my sweep and sway ‘neath
the soft-bellied skies of Spring
dear lady, April
how I revel in the glorious abundance of your Nature;
your nurture enlivens my humble woody being
and though gray may shade my weather-beaten heart..
evergreen is my soul
Susan Ashley
April 12, 2021
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: April
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
Death, the final frontier?
A nest is round.
Our nest the Earth is round like all the stars and planets.
All things are orbital, even time and space.
Let us analyse life and death like night and day or water and vapour!
But, this time see death as the day and life as the night.
So in our day, we see all things clearly,
and in our night we are blindly stumbling, or lost in a dream.
The water we can see as life this time,
running always downhill subject to the gravitational pull.
The vapour is our spirit free of all Earthly bonds.
But, this too is a cycle continually reverting back and forth.
As the vapour raises towards the sky it is collected by the clouds.
Thus returning to Earth again as rainwater.
One major point to always remember in "life" also is that
you cannot create or destroy energy!
It only transforms.
Introspection
suspends in dark blue amnion
as rainwater blooms a reflection pool
an oasis of energy for contemplative embryo;
in stillness I grow.. my pulse a flowing stream of raindrops
my body the rhythm maker
my mind the artiste
in a cocoon a rhythmic womb —
a primal nest gestates my om
b r e a t h i n g i n
b r e a t h i n g o u t
saturation of breath
soaks and stretches my cortex canvas;
within the indigo sphere
I paint a mural
upon my sacred temple walls
a self-portrait
with a benevolent brush dipped in starlight –
I surrender staying and portraying within the lines
uncaged colors roam
beyond my human extremities and Earth’s edge
gouache-plashes of teal and fuchsia
fraternize with fibers of flesh and marrow
conceiving abstracts as airy as sparrow dreams
as I - a mindful explorer flies an inner cosmos
beyond the confines of the canvas white
outside the frames of physicality and reality
to throw open window panes to the unlimited
to banish pains of the limited — free
my meditative spirit making art with the universe
Susan Ashley
September 7, 2022
~ Fifth Place ~
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 18
Sponsor: Mark Toney
~ First Place ~
Premiere Contest: Brian Strand Premiere Choice
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Photo: The Seer; Laurie Bain Hamilton - owner of primalpainter
In sepia foliage's of falsified fantasies,
cursed by haunting hornets stinging
with honeyed painted lies,
her mind was like a matriarch of metaphors.
An inflorescent seed buried in darkness,
with a somnolent spirit rustling in onyx nostalgia.
Too afraid to spread her fragile feathers,
she lay upon a bed of black rose petals,
veiled underneath dark raven phases,
hidden behind the silence of lunar secrets,
Her soul slept like grieving ghosts of galactic graves,
repeatedly releasing wounded sighs.
Not all florets flourish
with the mercy of rainwater,
only nourishing hands can create
an aesthetic pastel carnival of confetti,
like lilac lavender snowflakes of smoky love.
Some spicy spirits are like
the marigold locket of liquid,
glowing like turmeric hues
in tamarind tinted skies of oblivion,
clearing diaphanous dewdrops
of a grainy hourglass,
spreading vintage violet wishes
in bluish epiphany skies,
disintegrating a montage
burnt to nefarious ashes,
raising amaranth pink petals
of heartfelt empathy.
There is a magic in midnight reigns,
as dawn retreats, dusk births a saviour knight,
altering twilight's twinkling tunnel
of kismet stars perfumed with sins.
Moonlight spreads a subtle silk scent
when fears fall like cosmic dust,
soothing a scarred moon soul and stars in slumber.
Not all flowers need a gardener to grow,
but all seedsmen sow to bloom an ivory aurora,
through the obscurity of ebony eyes.
Sometimes, its the simple touch of fingertips,
that lays the perfect foundations,
for a sunflower to embellish in gold.
What blessed and sweet relief,
Is the long awaited heavenly rain.
For the many people, a too hot
Heat, the scorching sun has slain.
Water is Divine and sustains us—
Our minds, our bodies, every cell.
Without our blessed rainwater
Our earth would be a barren hell.
Our weather is ever changing—
Though we also need sun to survive,
It is the melting snow and raindrops,
In every form, that keeps us alive.
The trembling of our planet earth,
Tidal waves in a windswept sea,
Tornados, hurricanes and dust storms,
Avalanche and lava flows, plague humanity.
Yet the earth regenerates, after every storm
And flood, fire and quaking of our earth,
There comes a time of glorious peace;
A time of rebuilding, a time of new birth.
We all prayed for rain when the drought had
Burned our crops, killed our beasts and such,
Then damned the rain when flooding came
As people died, and torrid rains became too much.
We need to temper every prayer, to leave things
In God's hands, stop telling omnipotent what to do,
For every little prayer is heard along with our demands.
Appreciate the rainbows sent and bathe in every hue.
For Divine hands are always present holding us
And rain comes from our Divine Father's joyous tears
Which will be a constant in our lives, and will continue
To sustain us throughout the eons of our years.
© Connie Marcum Wong
The rose was fragile in its beauty,
Its hue the colour of romance novels and warm tea,
But these flowers aren’t flickers of flames in winter,
They were cold,
They were your soulless eyes staring up at me from a casket.
You became the still image of everything you should never have been,
Your hair was too neat,
Your honey blond fragments a solid streak,
It was always untidy,
No wonder you were loved so widely.
You were never a rose,
Never dainty nor small,
Pesticides and gloves were never needed,
You always grew tall.
I could touch you without bleeding,
Your thorns never pierced my skin,
You helped me grow,
But now you’re gone,
No sunlight or rainwater tears will ever bring you back.
When I sit in my garden and I watch the sunflowers turn towards that sun,
It hurts a little less to have lost a loved one,
But now I understand.
Not why you had to die but why you lived,
Your life was a garden of memories and breath,
Of the mellow sun striking the petals of yellow sunflowers,
That was you Cath,
You tilted towards everything bright,
Sunflowers litter my garden now,
A sea of sunshine smiling faces,
You are never dead,
For the blazing memory of you keeps every nook and cranny of my garden alive.
If you ever visit South Wales do go and see
The location of what was an awful tragedy
Famous for the wrong reasons the town of Aberfan
Suffered an unspeakable horror that was caused by man.
On the twenty first of October at nine fifteen
Was the worst mining disaster that Wales had ever seen
A spoil tip that had been piled high just above the town
Was loosened by rainwater and came crashing down.
Pantglas junior school was just below in its path
Children ready for lessons at their desks' they were sat
The tip hit the school a hundred and forty four died
When the news was released the whole nation cried.
Volunteers came and they dug down quite deep
The teachers and children were already 'asleep'
A farmhouse and cottages with people inside
They too lost their lives in the thundering mudslide.
In the horrific events twenty five did survive
Were found by the rescuers shocked but alive
Painful memories they have of what happened that day
It's a terrible burden they carry that won't go away.
A memorial garden marks the spot where they died
And on a hillside they're buried side by side
Their little white markers are harrowing to see
A stark reminder of that awful tragedy.
(Dedicated to all those who lost their lives at
Aberfan on that fateful morning of 21st October 1966)
Written on 21st November 2017.
She gave me a dry idea
Then asked me if I wanted to join her
To go dancing in the rainwater
Only for me to wake up
And find she lived in my slumber
So let me close my eyes again
And sleep the night and days away
To be with her all through this time
With rainbows
in the raindrops
in her hair that Shine
I'm stuck behind moving willow trees
Who are stuck behind a line of white taxis
Wipe my eyes from the wind and water
If you would want this to seem shorter
Don't these stares aim for you?
I've been facing them for a month now
All because of a point of an opinion
On how much worse the sun has shone through
We sat on the grass
And looked out to the floor
500feet below us maybe even more
She told me who she was with tears in her eyes
Her sadness forced me to open mine
Once again she was gone from in front of me
along with her tears and her shame
Pull the sheet over my head and remind me again
Calling out in my subconscious
To her silhouette
To turn when I say her name
I'm stuck behind moving willow trees
Who are stuck behind a line of white taxis
Wipe my eyes from the wind and water
If you would want this to seem shorter
Don't these stares aim for you?
I've been facing them for a month now
All because of a point of an opinion
On how much worse the sun has shone through
For my life
For my love
You make me struggle
You've made me break
But just like stone
I'm not leaving this point
not until the sea washes me away
I still have plenty of time left
To watch the dreams
As my days float on by
For my life
For my love
Married for eternity to the cool earth.
So difficult to think about my beautiful flower.
Surrounded by jagged rocks and cold rainwater.
Your sweet petal skin forged from angelic mint.
Devoured by an eternity of unforgiving darkness.
You were my rosy mist, a thorny blitz.
That briefly brushed and teased relentlessly.
A heart that always leaned toward your hurt.
Your impulses drifted toward the others.
Leaving those sharks with just a taste of "it".
But wine, wings, and blood are never to be gulped.
Only very gently kissed and sipped...
That's why I know the color of the dark you wear.
The clack of rocks that crown your forever lair.
Now I put my hands together, oh no, not in prayer.
But to warm the devilish earth,
that rakes the stain of time into your angelic hair.
A rain barrel near the house
While the rain is pouring
The rain barrel catches raindrops
Filling the barrel up to the top
Rainwater is useful
It is good for gardens
Used to wash the plants
While refreshing them
Rainwater makes small pools
The birds bath in puddles
They also drink the water
Rainwater is not wasted
I have little to say
as an avalanche of maple
spills over the back fence
and water weighted branches,
heavy with the perfume of rain,
bow and bend
in a slight breeze
and the dry throats of hollyhocks
are quenched and dribble
an excess down
stems that yesterday
stooped and wilted
under a hot sun.
And what can I say
as a profusion of green glistens
in the early morning light
and leaves wear a fresh glaze
in the cool air. How everything
has changed, gorged now
on an infusion of wet
as I walk under the trees,
daubed and dabbed
with rainwater, feeling
the sweet damp of a joy
left here as it was
passing through
late last night and now
whatever I could say
would not be enough.
Even the irrational, of a child,
running for cover, losing
board game, but especially
in his smile, hug, snowball-kisses.
The rolled-out dough,
cookie cutters,
little fingers sprinkling sugar.
Joyful stomping
of rainwater and mud,
dripping onto a sparkling floor.
Wiggly worms and dandelions
pulled from his short pocket.
The scuffed up pants
as he deliriously slides
into home base,
and the other way around,
as he zealously shouts,
“You’re out!”
Cleaned-up, tucked-in, fast asleep -
the simplicity of an angel.
I am a Banyan tree,
More than hundred years old,
Near a beautiful lake I stand,
In the heart of Mother Nature.
During my life span I have seen,
Days both good and bad,
I have experienced the strong forces of nature,
Surviving them courageously.
I have grown tall and strong,
By drawing nutrients from the guardian soil,
Soaking in the moist rainwater,
Bathing in the holy sunlight.
I have made some good friends who have,
Explored my heart,
Cheered up my soul,
And brightened my days.
One of my good pals is the lake,
Who has added meaning to my life,
A kinship has developed between us,
From him I have learnt the value of stillness.
I remember you well the nightingale.
You lived in a hole made in my trunk,
Many a time you have sung your melodious lyrics to me,
Providing relief to my aching heart.
I love breezy nights the most,
With the moon shining brightly in the sky,
The divided clouds passing by the moon,
And every instrument of nature showing an aura of magic!
My branches begin to dance,
My spirit awakens,
My soul becomes alive,
On hearing the hymning influences of the wind.
The Earth is a heavenly place,
The Nature is its heart,
With its mystic charms and wonders,
Has shown me a world next to impossible!
Oh god! Thanks for granting me a blessed life,
This life I have enjoyed to the fullest,
I hope I have satisfied you,
By playing my role in this universe sincerely. :)
The arrogance of humanity
Insists some piece of it we own,
But fragile Earth on which we tread,
God gives us only as a loan.
As we impose our footprints here
May lovely blossoms show our path.
No poisons nor impurities.
Just sweet rainwater as Earth's bath.
To generations handed down
As perfect as conceptual plan
In a few years can be badly changed
By the smug insolence of man.
In peaceful equanimity
The flora and the fauna live;
Pleased to be part of greater plan,
Taking no more than what they give.
We humans must accept the blame
For interruptions to the flow.
Our mighty rivers carry forth
Toxins we scatter as we go.
If Earth is to live, we must resolve
To be protectors of her worth.
Gardeners, may our numbers grow
As guardians of our precious Earth.
Resolved are we to preach the word
That Nature has finite supply,
Abandoning guns for trusted hoe
We must go forth and multiply.
In robust numbers we shall march
Against pollution of our land.
Treading lightly as we advance,
Trustees of globe on which we stand.
Vodka
That is what they drink
never water
on no account will a Commie ever drink water
and not without good reason
water that's what I'm getting at
water is the source of all life
seven tenths of this Earth's surface is water
why do you realize that 70 percent of you is water
as human beings you and I
need fresh pure water to replenish our precious bodily fluids.
are you beginning to understand
That’s why I drink only distilled water
rainwater
or pure-grain alcohol
Have you ever heard of a thing called fluoridation
do you realize that fluoridation is the most monstrously conceived
the most and dangerous Communist plot we have ever had to face