Rain Eulogy Poems | Examples
These Rain Eulogy poems are examples of Eulogy poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Eulogy Rain poems written by international poets.
They called it a seat,
but it was a cradle of fire—
metal-wrapped, bolted shut,
no window,
just the hum of wires
and the memory of old Moscow snow
still clinging to your pads.
They fed you well
and fastened you in
with practiced hands
that trembled only later.
You blinked once—
trusting, calm—
a good girl ascending
where no stray should go.
The capsule ticked
like a settling house—
soft clicks and mechanical sighs,
a shifting weight.
You floated slightly,
snout twitching for air,
wrapped in the smell
of aluminum and heat,
no wind, no scent of rain,
no footsteps coming—
only the pulse of Earth receding.
Your breath grew fast,
then faster still—
in a cage of heat.
The tether drew tight,
your heart raced wild—
then slowed,
then stopped.
The straps dissolved
as your soul slipped free—
a wisp of fur,
a flicker of light
curling through circuits
into the stars—
and no one called your name.
They never brought you home,
but I see you sometimes—
a pale arc before dawn,
falling neither fast nor slow,
the ghost of a girl
who once chased shadows
beneath the rusted cars
of Moscow.
IF I KNEW
IF I KNEW TODAY WOULD BE MY LAST DAY,
I WOULD…..
LAUGH HARD AT ALL THE THINGS I ALWAYS WANTED TO
SMILE AT EVERYONE I SEE
HUG AS MANY PEOPLE AS I COULD GET MY ARMS AROUND
CALL MY FAMILY AND TELL THEM I LOVE THEM
CALL MY OLD FRIENDS AND “Remember When”
MAKE A VIDEO FOR MY GRANDCHILD TO WATCH SOMEDAY
DRESS UP IN SOMETHING WHIMSICAL
EAT ALL MY FAVORITE FOODS
LISTEN TO MY FAVORITE SONGS
OPEN ALL THE DOORS AND WINDOWS AND LET THE BREEZE FILL THE AIR
STEP OUTSIDE AND LISTEN TO THE WIND AND THE BIRDSONGS
HOPE FOR RAIN, SO THAT I COULD DANCE IN THE RAIN ONE LAST TIME
LOOK AT THE NIGHT SKY AND STARS AND KNOW HEAVEN WAS WAITING
SAY A GRATEFUL PRAYER TO GOD FOR EVERYDAY HE GAVE ME
ASK FOR FORGIVENESS
FORGIVE EVERYONE
SMILE BETTER.
TJSilba, Collections of life 2025
Do not listen for me in wind whispers
Or echoes down the lane,
My spirit would never settle
For such quiet and mundane.
I won't be found in soft starlight
Or twinkles on velvet snow,
Toward things quiet and serene
Isn't where my soul would go.
Not among sleepy night forests
Or captive in the lyrics of a song,
Amidst the tranquil and calm
Just isn't where I belong.
I'll be tearing up the shore
In a category four,
The rolling thunder and torrential rain
Is likely where you should explore.
I'm riding a bolt of lightning
An electric inferno untamed,
The eye of a tornado or an erupting volcano
is where they'll know my name.
Remember me happily when you think of me
And know that I am at home,
I'm a soul storm all around you
Alive in everything, I'm in your heart,
You'll never be alone.
This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.
The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.
Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.
I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.
This uncompromising Sunday
has agreed to let us enjoy
what is left of a boring day
as we ardently seek the brief presence
of a radiant sunset resembling red clay,
attesting the inevitable evidence.
The purple lilacs and pink tulips gently sway,
nobody listens to the crickets' soothing sounds;
early at sunrise they were inundated by big waves
and torrents of unmerciful rain pelting on the bay.
Every Bayberry and Crape Myrtle shrub has fragrant flowers,
they attract Sandpipers, Snowy Plovers and Monarch Butterflies;
they all feast on them, then they take off with incredible swiftness:
while the tranquil and brilliant sea resounds with various shrills.
I spot from far the noisy seagulls landing on the Church's steeple,
scattering the Gray Catbirds huddled on long cable wires that were
listening to the choir of faithful marching out with glowing smiles,
cherishing their last moment of glory under brilliant September's skies.
1. Refrain (Unwound)
Her song, it never played
Coal sack black stitching frayed
Lead the familiar thread
Lined coffin living dead
To the beat how we march
Funeral shirt ready starched
2. Hush now...
...never played, never played
Her song, a hollow stain
It haunts the silence
Whispers invade the rain
A constant ache, a constant pain
3. Essence dead
Her touch, I wish it upon my skin
How dust settles against the wind
Regret, too late to confess my sins
Bitter ale I swallow, help forget I prayed
A story untold, her song it never played
They tell me to let it go
Thoughts leaves on a stream
In the grove of trees
Lies my willow golden
Blown by winds and rain
By a reaching brook
Leaves butterflies descending
Pacific take these wings
In each leaf that falls
Lies a thought disowned
My soul hoping to lay down
On a raft of fallen leaves
I let go of all my precious
Till I am bare in winter
The seasons concluding
My chiffon hair denuded
Pointless to hold summer
When leaves on a stream fall
Carry all my failures away
Carry all my forgiveness
Till only branches remain
A weeping skeleton bereft
In the grove the axe swings
Seeds for the new year adrift
Far and near hibernating
My seeds herald the way
To the ocean we all go
Leaves on a stream churn
Branches cut from the trunk
The last stem won’t let go
Let me hold on to one more
My dress too bare to bear
Winter is the axe man
In the autumn of youth
I hold on to leaves leaving
Ashamed of bare branches
In the grove of trees
In the autumnal gold
We will all be sticks
Set the last thought free
Rest my soul on it
However precious
Embrace the cut
Ride to the ocean
Without dressing
Without a thought
I feel so small and so insignificant
Waves so tall like white wall magnificent
Smelling new blue rain coming fast
Feeling pink pain in my bones so bad
Memories of the two of us
At the beach so new in love
As I watch the waves dart and dash
I should have known we would not last
Reveries of present seagull day
Ride the stream across the wave
New love is on the way, sweet like wedding cake
I believe in true love today.
I watch waves crash as life twist and turns
We pour ashes from a solid gold urn
Loving life and dealing with death’s burn
Waves teach us faith and why we must learn.
Old soldiers never die
Old soldiers never cry
Old soldiers live in our heart
In our guts
Forever
Old soldiers live in our pride
In our huts
Forever
Old soldiers live on
Old soldiers fight on
Until the last breath
Until the inevitable death
Of hate and intolerance
Until the last breath
Until the abrupt death
Of racism and ignorance
Until the birth of liberty
Until the hard death of bigotry
Old soldiers never die
Old soldiers never cry
Like the sad sobs of the rain
Like the children in pain
Like the suffering women in poverty
And like the poor elders in misery
Old soldiers never die
Old soldiers never cry
Gentlepeople, I'm also being told
That brave Soldiers don't grow old
They linger in our mind
And they live on in our pride
Forever, eternally
With honor and dignity.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to all Soldiers, the Veterans, and to Senator John McCain.
Copyright © August 2018, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Must we cry at funerals?
Or might we stand there motionless-
Clutching fists or hands at rest
Between the mourning generals
Must we drown our eyes in tears?
Or might we simply look away-
Weigh the rain another day
And feign to hear some hollowed cheers
Must we hide a torrid cry?
Or might we hold a paper piece-
Hear a sermon shushed by peace
And empty hearts as they breathe dry
Might we look up at the bird
That disappears amongst the trees
Pulled back to earth by the breeze
And finds the roots to hear its word
Our heart bled tears, confirming our worst fears,
that estranged from our lover, our soul died.
As the coffin dropped, we felt leers and jeers
of both friend and foe, of true love denied.
As was the custom, we bore a fake smile,
acknowledging kind words to us proffered
but all we felt was, bitter taste of bile,
finding no solace, in limp hands offered.
As a soulless ghoul, we wander the earth,
although to the bigots we seem alive
but now we’re bereft of love, light and mirth,
hoping that one day, heart’s joy may revive.
Be it rain or shine, always standing tall ~
We are expected to smile as we fall
Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive
Jewels peppering petals, impulsive
Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Wonders so amazing they’re compulsive
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure
Skating along roses, a faint pleasure
Reflecting joy descending with showers
Creating hope in hearts, beyond measure
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers
Reflecting joy descending with showers
Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Nourishing the oaks, pines, all the flowers
Knowing beautiful beyond any place
Risking all to abide in His sweet grace
Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Knowing beautiful beyond any place
Soft light flowing down from heaven above
Singing like stardust glistens, secret love
Painting souls in music from falling rain
Soft light flowing down from heaven above
Here is more love than a heart can contain
Painting souls in music from falling rain
Lightening rages in skies, bleeding fears
Here is more love than a heart can contain
Rain pours down over the hills, like God’s tears
Over obscure wasteland cloud hovered unmelted,
the desert deprived of tuneful rain languished
until you arrived with the whistling breeze,
the oasis resonated in the ripples of lacustrine symphony.
Cadenced joy cascaded in deranged depression,
in the dwindling dunes fervent flowers bloomed.
In sensuous tune the vibrant sky’s spectrum dissolved,
the harmonic hues of twilight gleamed your grandeur.
For me lost in the desert of desolation,
searching for missing passion in migrant mirage,
within the abandoned channel meandering indolent,
the murmur of your music echoed in yearning flow.
The melodic flight ended with the folding of wings
in the nest of memory weaved with strings of sonata,
ringing the whisper of the departing zephyr,
turning into the sound of music when doves cry.
It was in the ebb
And flow of the tide
The gentle waves
And the now gray colour
In the heart -like beat water body
With the wind gentle
And the soft rain
That I placed his ashes
I watched them float
And fly
And dissolve
And sink
Lost in the ebb and flow of the tide.
Sidewalk spring rain steps
years of tetter-totter angst
Main St. love apocalypse
Relationship on the rocks
Haystack needle search weary