Long Spring rain Poems
Long Spring rain Poems. Below are the most popular long Spring rain by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Spring rain poems by poem length and keyword.
After the spring rain, the air's scent
Is like a sweet perfume
The essence of Wisteria
An aroma gone too soon
The clouds darken all becomes still
Quiet is deafening
Then boom lightning bolt flashes
A gentle rain dripping
The air is fresh, sweet, renewed
Cleansed of every stale scent
Like a new baby's presence
Rain 'pon summer day sent
Weeks without a fall cleansing rain
Dust and pollen flourish
Dry heavy stale air floats around
Plants need rain to nourish
Then a gentle rain starts to fall
A sweet aroma swirls
All God's creatures are quiet~ still
Fragrance of rain God's pearls
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: Fragrance of Rain
Poet: Sara Kendrick
Written: November 16, 2013
Form:A type of Poulter's Measure/ 8,6,8,6 with rhyme on the 6
A golden sun climbs higher still
Warming the night away
Roosters voices float 'pon the breeze
Spring calls come out and play
Tomorrow a storm might come
With torrents of cold rain
Thunder and lighting flashing round
A chill in the air again
Rain that washes the gold pollen
And purifies the air
Also giving a thirst quenching drink
To buds who'll blossom fair
Spring love reach deep within the soul
Let the spring fever rise
Don't douse the flames burning hotter
Those glowing embers apprise
Only a few golden spring days
Then summer's fervent heat
Rest in the arms of spring my love
Soon our journey's complete
Let's burn away the last of daylight's
Hours, embraced in love's flame
Planting memories of our fire
That will live on untamed
Spring rain hung around a tad bit long
Soaking Mother Nature with downpours of tiny storms
Bringing some cooler weather with cold shivering winds
Giving breaks to lawn sprinklers by Mother Nature’s will
Messing up some tree branches
Spoiling some flowering bushes
Flooding up ant colonies
Sending birds to take shelters behind tree leaves
Creeks started flowing again
Puddles started forming again
Bringing joy to snails and slugs
Calling them to explore the wet world
Ducklings liked playing in the puddles
Turkeys appreciated meals of snails and slugs
Squirrels and rabbits became jubilant
Started scurrying around with new triumph
Insects got new lives
Danced in the air buzzing at various heights
Birds got ample supply of healthy proteins
Overjoyed to feed their precious hatchlings
Mountain tops got sprinkles of fresh white powder
Curvy roads showed sights of lingering foggy vapors
Waterfalls came alive through cracks between mountain pillars
River started gushing creating rhythms of beating drums
Big raindrops of spring rain
Brought freshness to mind’s brain
Stopping dreary thought trains
Furthered to enjoy Mother Nature’s magnificent plays again
Intermittent spring rain
has dressed mother nature
in her Sunday best;
all is young and beautiful.
A lingering rainbow
hangs steady.
Petrichor wafts
in the noontime breeze
as white butterflies
float about carefree.
Bumblebees flit and buzz
around the wildflowers
and hordes of grasshoppers
erratically jump for joy.
A joyous day of renewal
in the green valley.
''V'' New Or Old Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date submitted: 11/17/2021
Theme chosen: Valley
Date originally written: 10/18/2020
Tattered Petals: Wounded Heart
Tattered on the garden path are petals
from roses, beheaded by Summer rain
when storm clouds emptied their brimming kettles
In the garden, my tender blooms were slain
Raindrops cut them like needle sharp nettles
I viewed the masacre with grim disdain
Thunder bellowed a victorious roar
Baneful Summer rains continued to pour
~ ~ ~
My tears fell like rose petals to the ground
Recalling a rain storm of years ago
When lightning struck my heart with force profound
Summer's rain became a fierce Winter snow
a blizzard of barbed words ran love aground
It died like roses from rain's pelting blow
Tattered were petals; wounded was my heart
From lashing torrents that ripped us apart
August 21, 2017
Spring Rain Storm Contest
sponsoredby Dale G. Cozart
Dawn comes
On the silk route;
Sun sparkles
Tour trip explores
Vistas of China;
Old and new transits
So much to see:
Lovely landscapes;
Crowded cities morphing
Words in my journal,
Thoughts on my journey;
Miracles and mysteries
Mötley tourist crowd
Eagerly guzzling down
All things China in spring rain
We take our time,
Explore the edges;
Collect instant memories
My darling translates
Classical Chinese tongue:
Basic English field trip!
Beauty in nuances
Cryptic language profound:
Where the Middle Kingdom reigns
Memories on record,
Thought distiller in word motifs;
Celebrate and anchor
Eventful sojourn,
Spring sensations --
Mystic revelations
Just the other day,
My darling said to me:
Take another China trip?
Leon Enriquez
19 Feb 2014
Singapore
I loved a woman named Sophia—
Not a name, but a flame,
A living scripture written in curves and silk,
In her eyes, the ache of ancient saints,
In her smile, the promise of spring rain.
But I was mortal.
Soft. Whole.
Ready to kneel, to build her a throne
From the bones of my own longing.
She whispered love,
Then lay with a priest—
Not just a man, but cloaked in God.
While I wrote poems in the dark,
She prayed in tongues
Upon another’s altar.
And something in me broke—
Not like glass, but like silence after thunder.
Clean. Eternal.
The boy died that night.
In his place:
A shadow that read Marcus Aurelius at dawn,
A beast that walked alone, unchained, unweeping.
I tasted solitude like it was wine.
Bitter. Then divine.
I danced with shadows,
Sat with pain until it taught me peace.
Then—
When the fire had left my veins,
When her name was no longer a prayer but a scar,
She returned.
Barefoot, breathless, broken.
“Sophia,” I said,
But only in my mind.
My lips were sealed with ash.
My soul had turned to wind.
She chased echoes down city streets,
Searched faces, searched skies—
But I was gone.
A ghost in her story.
An absence louder than a scream.
And this—this is what love can become:
A mirror that teaches you who you are
After it shatters.
A teacher disguised as a wound.
A silence that speaks.
Now I walk not to be found,
But to be free.
Not to be loved,
But to be whole.
Let her tell our tale.
Let her cry in chapters.
Let her wonder what beast I became—
While I vanish,
Smiling,
In the pages she’ll never read.
The thunder rolls, a spring rain pours, low solid gray clouds wrap around in all
directions, and fog banks between trees of the forest with gray and dark green scalloped edges like the sand on the beach compelling the poet's eyes to experience
all of the morn.Tender new life formed of different shades of green decorates the woods and homeplaces. As the rain drip-drops from the eaves, a bird's throaty call floats across the damp soggy air.
the damp breeze stirs sound
of wind chimes varied music..
animals silent
Poet
Exits
Porch
Sponsor: Sheri Fresonke Harper
Contest: Three Stanza Suite
Prose poetry
Haiku
Brevette
Written April 07,2014
(Dedication: For Ann)
Spring rain dazzles in clear fashion;
Blooms now wrestle in grand passion;
Lovely juggle of fine action.
My lover comes to squeeze joy plain;
A lovely sum with profound gains;
We sing and hum with cares now slain.
Come let us go to seek fond space:
To greet the glow of love we trace;
With tryst that shows love in sure grace.
The moments here in happy pace
Is full of cheer with charms we trace;
Linger most clear, touch face to face.
Yes cheek to cheek as lovers touch,
Glimpses now peek on loving much;
A music peaks twin hearts as such.
And so we skip with lively feet,
Touch earthly trip upon this street;
For love now rips our sensuous heat.
No words can stay the course we take;
We while the day and night we wake;
Watch stars at play and eat our cake.
Time flavours time with clever charm;
Rhyme follows rhyme in steady farm;
Walk steadfast chime, waltz arm in arm.
A timeless span covers our smiles;
A treasure grand offers to style
Our souls' extend in passion's child.
New lease of life bursts forth to stay;
We do survive our sojourn play
Beyond mere strife to better days.
This mortal flesh must melt away;
And in a flash, our souls must lay
Old earth and dash to blissful sway.
See stillness here in pun and wit;
See love spark clear the path that fits;
See endless cheer that ever knits.
Love wears fond wings to seek bold skies
As stars now sing in myriad sighs,
To hurl and fling with love that cries!
Dusk waits for dawn, and gracious hum;
Night pines for morn, and grand outcome;
Lovers now spawn a lovely psalm.
Come now darling as love calls out;
Let's leave all things and shout fond shouts;
Heed the calling of surreal bouts.
Leon Enriquez
17 Apr 2014
Singapore
Even Rocks Can Cry
Even rocks wear away with time
and the demands of strength. These
seemingly immoveable objects,
deflectors of life’s raging torrents,
sun warmed seats of contemplation,
bearers of past high and low water marks.
Unnoticed, they sit as observers, watching
as time passes through their moment,
aware, yet unaware, of the softening of
edges, the smoothing of an old, once
craggy face, resigned to the river’s
changing moods, the wind’s cold chaffing,
the sun’s yellow soothing, the moon’s cool
silver chill and the cleansing joy of
a spring rain. Yes, these rocks, these
anchors, depended on for guidance,
for protection, for the memory of
the splashing joy of youth. These rocks
when left too long grow lonely,
shed an unseen tear. For even rocks
can cry.
2/17/2014 --125 words