Long Cloudburst Poems
Long Cloudburst Poems. Below are the most popular long Cloudburst by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cloudburst poems by poem length and keyword.
As the wind gushes through the pane,
she jots down crystal-clear memoirs
from a flawless hand, still radiant;
while tendrils of a past causes
flushed eyes to melt in the glass of evening.
Then pausing between emblazoned lines,
a web of sagas transports her musings
in a village where life details the ache
and glory of unwanted farewell;
the summer air turning blooms into molds
as new autumn's lungs exhale without crisp sounds.
Quietly, Aunt Jenny folds the sepia-book
to gaze at the beauty of twilight,
where cloudburst fades like distant remains...
then, washing the pale mist of yester-years,
she breathes in solace: a woman freed
by putting a name to her own unfurled dream,
ready for rain’s music of tamed sleep
when a nightingale drifts from a branch,
quiet, quiet as feathered reverie.
(c)
Must Be Read Contest
For Silent One
knowing...
if stars should fade when I'm with you
and darkness reigns in midnight blue
I would croon while we rendezvous
sultry lyrics in your ear...
love songs of a balladeer
whispers fondling your neck and face
caressing each exotic place
'til breathless in my warm embrace
there's teasing with finger tips
and tasting from parted lips
our passion stirs without disguise
your need escapes in moans and sighs
I kiss the lids of your closed eyes
there's beauty found in the dark...
when a kiss ignites a spark
our tongues entwine like flames of fire
for want of more, we both conspire
carnal fervor transcends desire
both yearning to sate this thirst...
ardor nearing a cloudburst
in night's gloaming, we were discreet
fulgent beauty, tryst in retreat
love evidenced with each heartbeat
dazzling hours of sweet torment...
in shadows our time was spent
sweet torment... in shadows
The full moon was half risen above the Earth
shining her nightlight across cooling desert sands.
She smiled, deep in thought and a sense of mirth,
"This could have been done with my own hands."
The grand landscape resembled a barren shore.
Sepia grains being slathered by rippling waves
without a trace of footprints, boat or an oar.
This sea had no depth to serve as watery graves.
No lush oasis springs from this seaside scene
nor cool stream to quench a traveler's thirst.
This Eastern dune held no date palms of green
and seldom witnessed is rain from a cloudburst.
Here, the moon does not control ebb and flow.
These tidal surges are guided by Mariah's wind,
where scorpions have no fear of an undertow.
A vast sea of sand where man feels chagrinned.
Classic Poetry forms should not be transformed
by those who think themselves poetically charmed
Limericks are not trampolines to bounce around
Anyone who changes the form is not honor bound
If you want to allow syllables of another count
Give it some other name and use any old amount
But keep the form pure as did poet, Edward Lear
as it was sung in bars while drinking ale and beer
Variations in forms have been liberally adapted
the original remains from which they were extracted
It's been successfully done with Japanese Haiku
Now, branched into many... there are quite a few
No contest judge, whether an amateur or a pro
should alter Limerick line syllable count. That's a no
And then when questioned by not one but three,
The offender deleted all the comments... cowardly
There's no cloudburst of tears over a contest loss
when a know-it-all sponsor assumes he's the boss
Imagine Shakespeare writing one of his Sonnets
without rhymes as if he had a bee in his bonnet!
Being true to poetry forms is doing what's expected
Those who mess with tradition should be rejected
It's the contest that fails when the judge has no clue
and accepts anything entered, right out of the blue
No outrage or tantrums take place in that situation
The ones who bastardize should face condemnation
Original Poetic forms were never meant to be changed
Anyone who does, should be ignored and estranged
I woke up on Monday morning to a rainstorm,
gloomy drizzle was hitting my bedroom window;
cozy in bed I wanted no part of the storm,
I saw tall trees bend- and the wind howl and blow.
Gloomy drizzle was hitting my bedroom window,
then, there was a loud cloudburst and a torrent fell;
I saw tall trees bend- and the wind howl and blow,
all peace and harmony and more sleep was farewell.
Then, there was a loud cloudburst and a torrent fell,
I threw off my cat and headed for the kitchen;
all peace and harmony and more sleep was farewell,
waiting for boiling- a nice daydream was broken.
I threw off my cat and headed for the kitchen,
then, a thundering huge MEOW was at my feet;
waiting for boiling- a nice daydream was broken,
I made my cafe, fed the cat and called her sweet,
Then, a thundering huge MEOW was at my feet,
cozy in bed I wanted no part of the storm;
I made my cafe, fed the cat and called her sweet,
I woke up on Monday morning to a rainstorm.
_______________________
February 19, 2018
Poetry/Pantoum/Rainy Monday
Copyright Protected, ID 18-9957-72-01
All Rights Reserved. Written Under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Rainy Days and Mondays
sponsor, Silent One
Second Place
The city workers had torn up the street,
but now were gone the weekend had arrived.
Still no break though from the sweltering heat
as walkers on the boulevard still thrived.
A sudden cloudburst dropped a foot of rain
it seemed, at least enough to fill the trench
before it left. The water didn't drain
and soon the children raced into the drench.
Tank suits came from nowhere to the street
as children leapt into the cooling wet.
The grown ups smiled and laughed most indiscreet
and stood as far away as they could get
from splashing waves that flew over the sides
as boys kicked up the water and girls screamed.
Still no Coney Island with all the rides,
we boys jumped in and in the chaos beamed
for we had never had a swimming pool;
such wonders did escape those of our class.
But now the sky had opened for us fools;
we barely noticed water warm and passed
the afternoon as though a miracle
had come to us. Throughout the closing day
we came to love the freedom lyrical
that God bestowed upon us just to say
we were his children, though too young to know
that blessings soon will pass. In fact, the street
would be repaired before the falling snow
in the next week. We would return to heat
for several weeks. Now I don't recall
what happened in the coming, cooling clime.
I just put hands on the thrill of it all
with photos of that once upon a time.
EASTER SUNRISE
Outside, perfect Sunrise
Service. The air’s so fresh.
Pastel dresses, pretty ties.
Resurrection from the creche.
Birth and rebirth celebrated.
Jesus - our Dayspring on High.
As sunrise songs begin, elated,
Oh how blessed with warming-eye.
The Son! The Son! Salvation
Hallelujahs in the blue and red hills -
Up goes the praise of creation.
Though a miniature group, it thrills
With anticipation of eternity nigh -
Gathered with the communion of saints.
Early risers savor the reverberating sigh,
Remembering our Savior - with no restraints.
We smile, we nod at one another
Knowing each person rose to the occasion.
Oh how much love, one for another,
In this small concreted space - a holy invasion.
Can you see the angel armies all about -
In power, quietness, expectation?
The one who rolled the tomb’s stone with a shout
Surely sees glory after glory without cessation.
We remember the snow white lamb of Bethlehem;
The victorious, merciful and just lion;
The great I Am;
The One who awakens Zion.
The air, so fresh, and we’re squeaky clean
Not because of water and soap
But because we accepted and lean
On Jesus Christ our Living Hope.
Dressed in pretty attire, not to be seen,
But to honor and applaud The Great -
The death and resurrection was the scene,
For the return of the King of kings, we cannot wait.
Bruised bones resolved, inhale - the inspire.
The second Adam resurrected on Sunday.
Laud, sing - with Holy Spirit fire.
Join in this spectacular prayer ballet
And the cloudburst of the sunrise choir.
Bursting with pink, tangerine and baby blue -
The horizon and the faithful spire;
The disclosure of God breaks through.
3/22/2023
Sponsor: Regina McIntosh
"A tearful heart is like a rainy cloud"
- by Poet
A heart full of tears is like a cloud filled with rain,
drenched in sorrow, it can't be consoled by a song,
at times it drizzles, sometimes it pours out in pain,
melancholy cannot be hid inside for long;
Salty drops drip drip drip from misty eyes of grief,
in a heart numbed by pain, woes do not go away;
When the Grim Reaper strikes, it's hard to find relief,
like the unrelenting rain on a cloudy day;
Emotions flood fast in a lone, suffering mind,
like the harsh pitter patter of heavy cloudburst;
A heart can only take as much as is destined,
the rest of its troubles overflow unrehearsed;
The heart's agony, only few can understand;
Like falling sleets of rain, heartache can pierce the soul,
such acute distress goes deep, it's tough to withstand,
when the sad sky showers, waterworks take its toll;
A heart full of tears is like a cloud filled with rain,
salty drops drip drip drip from misty eyes of grief,
emotions flood fast in a lone, suffering mind,
the heart's agony, only few can understand.
12.09.2020
For Constance La France's "My created form: Rhyme4 Mix" contest
There is nothing quite like
rain in summer
Summer season looks
As young and beautiful as Spring.
Petrichor wafts in the breeze.
Flowers are blooming here and there.
A seed is growing into a tree.
It's pouring rain after a hot day;
Get under the rain to cool down.
A colorful rainbow is hovering
Above the afternoon sky
After a stormy weather.
There's nothing quite like
rain in summer.
The sky looks gray today,
But rest assured,
The Sun will come out tomorrow.
Bring out your inner child;
Splash out a water puddle!
A cloudburst comes after
A long, unforgiving drought.
Mother Earth quenches her thirst.
Let us all rejoice!
Let us all rejoice!
There's nothing quite like
rain in summer.
"recently scenes of early life have stolen into my mind, like breezes blown ..."
Quote by _Samuel Taylor Coleridge (from his writings)
Mother no more! You're half-orphan! They said.
At just three, I did not know where she went.
With some secret-filled smile I went ahead.
Through grassy, bushy, thorny, paths so bent,
They carried her within coffin coal black...
At just three, I did not know where she went.
While walking through the same way our home back,
I did not know why I did not ask why
They carried her within coffin coal black...
When I first went to my first school nearby,
When my first teacher kissed my hand and cried
I did not know why I did not ask why
I did not cry; my dad's tears never dried.
A feeling, like rough cloudburst, within rushed...
When my first teacher kissed my hand and cried
With growing up when past feelings got hushed.
Mother no more! You're half-orphan! They said.
A feeling, like rough cloudburst, within rushed...
With some secret-filled smile I went ahead.
22 October 2022
Writing Challenge - Past Memories - ''T'' Forms Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France.
Theme: Past Memories
Form: Terzanelle