Long Thunderstorms Poems
Long Thunderstorms Poems. Below are the most popular long Thunderstorms by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Thunderstorms poems by poem length and keyword.
Life as we know it comes to a halt
as Rain, king of April, begins his reign.
Downpours, thunderstorms and hurricanes
create chaos as he jerks our chains.
Wreaking havoc and major assault
each day is unique when Rain takes the reins.
With pitter patter or thunderous strains
he writes inclement music with refrains.
Over-swelling river banks to a fault
his work is often known to flood.
When raindrops chase raindrops in cold blood,
the clearest of streams now flow with mud.
Much like a spoiled prince's strong will,
King Rain's temper begins to bawl
with torrents of hail and sudden squall.
Ev'n weathermen's best fail to call.
Because pet plans have gone downhill,
the wee folk in our midst complain,
"Rain, rain, go away." don't come again;
as May shuts down the realm of rain.
And when summer's drought brings overkill,
King Rain still boasts, he holds the reins.
He claims that he empties water mains,
hoarding his resources, causing pains.
written April 1, 2017
24 lines
It’s old and a little tattered…the coat her grandma wore.
It doesn’t fit her all that good…it’s not in style anymore
It’s always by our front door…on the rack…just hanging there
She puts it on every now and then when she feels a chill is in the air.
I used to bring home new ones…I don’t do that anymore…
because she prefers to wear that old coat…the one her grandma wore.
Her grandma raised her after her parents died
It was in her grandma’s care she grew
She was too young to remember…
Grandma is the only mom she ever knew.
When she was sad or lonely or things weren’t going right
She would sit upon her grandma’s lap and grandma’s arms would hug her tight.
Through all the ills of growing up…through all the heartaches and thunderstorms
It was there in her grandma’s arms where she felt safe and warm.
When her Grandma passed away she left her this old coat
and there, on the inside pocket, she left a little note.
‘How many times over the years have I hugged you’…it read
‘I’ll never know the exact amount
because when it comes to hugging you
I long ago lost count.’
‘We all must die eventually for that is the circle of life.
This means I won’t be there to hug you
In times of happiness or strife.’
Which is why I’m leaving you my old coat…it’s the only one I’ve ever worn
It’s the one I was wearing when I first held you…the day that you were born.
Put it on when you are happy, when you’re excited or feeling blue
Put it on and know right then…I am hugging you.
Perhaps that’s why when she wears it…she also wears a smile…
and why that old coat her grandma wore…will never go out of style.
My friendship might take effort
I am high maintenance too
But if you face a problem
I’m the one who’ll stand by you
Time investment’s an issue
My love needs nurture to grow
But if you’re ever alone
You can count on me, you know
Some people don’t like “intense”
They just want to keep things light
But when they struggle with grief
I’m the one they call at night
The truth is life has bad times
That can make the strongest weak
It is in these thunderstorms
Words of comfort I will speak
So, yes…you may not be sure
If I deserve time of day
But when you want someone near
I’m the one you’ll beg to stay.
Eileen Manassian Ghali
Sunny storms drench away the sorrow I feel inside
Rainstorms and thunderstorms make life a rowdy ride
The clouds above are dancing merrily and I look up and stare
Raindrops and sunshine fill my days and nights as I prepare…
To run...run...run in the sun, shining anew…
To walk...walk...walk on the mesmerizing moon…
To slide...slide...slide on clouds of baby blue
To collide...collide...collide into the beauty of the afternoon
Scarlet sunsets swim in my eyesight
I am seeking empathy from the sunlight
Regret no longer clings on to me…
God gave me His amazing mercy
Acceptance is the beginning of flight
For a fantastic future that's so bright
Bite the bullet as you soar oh so triumphantly like an eagle in the sweet, splendid air
Endure the despairing hardships and there's plenty of joyousness to simply share
Believe in me as I get stronger by the minute
Relieve me from grief and give me a mind of wit
I need to admit to myself that I am never alone
I need to look up to You when I feel on my own
Dreaming won't help me to achieve my goals in life
Unless I take quick action to untie peace from strife
I realize that gloryless guilt and shameful sin has weighed me down
I recognize your voice out of a million in this tension-packed town
As I skip to and fro into the river of roving radiance
As I leap from pod and pod like a frog of brilliance
As I jump from one tree to another like a monkey of gladness
As I grab a hold of the rope of hope gleefully with no distress
Winds howling off trees overhead
in the grim grey sky, blackened stars.
leaves whisper in their rustling tread
excited in an air of summer showers.
embrace of monsoon, clouds rip apart
overturns a bucket of torrential rain
erasing footprints, sun makes a dart
drizzle heals ache, it's beauty again.
lonely lampposts weep in puddles
angry sky roars in thunderstorms.
verdant vales hydrate in cuddles
muddy soil clad in wet uniforms.
an arc of flash welding in distant
electric sparks emaneting a prison.
vision unveiled in lightning instant
poets hypnotized by rainy season.
19th May 2019
Dear Soul Mate ...
At this time in my life, I am an expert at goodbyes ...
I have said goodbye endless times to friends on the phone or pals online ...
I have said goodbye to my youth and all the joys and experiences that blossomed there ...
I have said goodbye to favorite foods (via allergies), instruments I hated to part with, and favorite movies ...
I have said goodbye to amazing stories, books, poems, songs, and pictures ...
I have said goodbye to special shirts, shoes, coats, hats, jeans, watches, and sunglasses ...
I have said goodbye to the sun in the sky almost 21,000 times at dusk,
And harder still, I have said goodbye (that many times) to the stars and moon at dawn ...
I have said goodbye to the ocean, when my soul ached so to remain ...
I have said goodbye to years of change and accomplishment ...
I have said goodbye to birthdays, Christmases, and holidays year-after-year ...
I have said goodbye to nights of romance and love that I wished would've lasted forever ...
I have said goodbye to thunderstorms, hurricanes and blizzards ...
Hot, active, happy days, and refreshing summer rains ...
I have said goodbye to skiing, soccer, favorite teachers, schools, and courses I adored ...
I have said goodbye to places of breathtaking wonder and beauty and paradise ...
To uniquely incredible experiences I knew would never come again ...
I can say goodbye, it seems, to almost anything ...
A priceless moment, the touch of a soul, a beloved pet, a loved one lost ...
I could even say goodbye to LIFE itself, no matter when ...
But please be kind, my love, and do not seek me out ...
For I could never again say goodbye ...
To YOU.
The milk coffee skies of Paris in May,
make the Seine river look insanely gray.
At sunrise it’s quiet -
the traffic’s mostly bikes
our digs are luxurious and private
my school stress is waning - it’s nice
I want to get up sigh
I don’t want to get up,
We’ll vote on it later -
I think it’s a tossup.
What will today bring?
More thunderstorms and kisses?
*grin* I hope so.
I pull the covers up.
Peter stretches and asks,
“what are you doing?”
I chuckle, and say,
“Come and find me,”
when he does,
Paris is fun in May
.
.
songs for this:
How Deep is your love - Live at the MGM Grand by Bee Gees
Houdini by Dua Lipa
Disco Boots by Gavin Turik
Not My Fault by Reneé Rapp & Megan Thee Stallion
Along the country roads
Still strong they march.
Rocks fitted with intricate care,
Pieced together rock by stone,
Without the help of mortar
A century or more ago
By farmers who ploughed the
Glacial moraine of New England
To plant subsistence crops
Of beans and peas, corn
And potatoes and beets, and
Hay for their animals,
Digging and hauling
The rocks from the stony soil.
Sweating and straining their
Weary muscles to hoist the
Heavy, awkward shapes
Into just the right niche.
They marked boundaries,
Kept animals in their fields,
Protected gardens and chickens
From marauders in the night.
Still they stand strong,
Those ancient rock walls,
Lichen covered and weathered,
Enduring the freezing rain
And ice and snow of winter,
The thunderstorms of summer.
Stoic reminders of the
Stubborn persistence of
Those who, with ox and cart,
Wrestled farms from the
Hard and unforgiving land
And built stone fences.
Along the country roads
Still strong they march.
Rocks fitted with intricate care,
Pieced together rock by stone,
Without the help of mortar
A century or more ago
By farmers who ploughed the
Glacial moraine of New England
To plant subsistence crops
Of beans and peas, corn
And potatoes and beets, and
Hay for their animals,
Digging and hauling
The rocks from the stony soil.
Sweating and straining their
Weary muscles to hoist the
Heavy, awkward shapes
Into just the right niche.
They marked boundaries,
Kept animals in their fields,
Protected gardens and chickens
From marauders in the night.
Still they stand strong,
Those ancient rock walls,
Lichen covered and weathered,
Enduring the freezing rain
And ice and snow of winter,
The thunderstorms of summer.
Stoic reminders of the
Stubborn persistence of
Those who, with ox and cart,
Wrestled farms from the
Hard and unforgiving land
And built stone fences.
What are we? you may ask,
While looking into the mirror of life
Reflecting all people having the same blood
Running into their similarly shaped bodies
What are we, if only for a difference in
Personality, name, mindset, affinities, and lifestyle
What are we, mere consciousness inhabiting bodies
We call human and thinking of ourselves
As being the apex of all lifeforms revolving along with
A silent and unexplained world?
Well, we are the magic sparkles of the divine's breath
As it has been pushed into us,
So as to have us toil for a purpose
We are interconnected galaxies who have forgotten
How to raise up to that level of vibration
Which would allow us to communicate through telepathy
We are the mystery of thunderstorms as they roar
Through cloud hidden skies
We are slaves of our fates,
Spirits entranced to such an extent by the light of the mystical
That we only care to live up to our duties
So as to open our eyes someday,
To our truth!
For Contest Sans mind-body who are we
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Written on 15th September 2022
Yah, let me forever be your pen
Let me write to you till the end
Let your words be embedded into my soul
Until I am made righteous and whole.
Yah say the word,
Let my mind be reformed and be made new
So I can once again learn to appreciate you
Yah, instruct my Spirit to be in sink with your Spirit
Teach me to listen and follow you
Yah be my guide, stay forever by my side
Never allow me to run or hide in fear or in pain
Yah when it rains and thunderstorms arise
And trials and burdens are heavy and frequent
Remind me, Lord, to write to you
Yah, let me be your pen
Instruct and inspire my soul to write for you
Send me your words to motivate and inspire the world
To comfort someone else’s soul
Yah let me always be willing to write only your words
Yah I have found my purpose
I am my Father’s pen till the end.