Rain Personification Poems | Examples
These Rain Personification poems are examples of Personification poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Personification Rain poems written by international poets.
I wish I was the wind
ruffling oak leaves
wafting through a verdant meadow
traveling through the night air
gently kissing the tips of grasses
the lightest of songs
a whispering wisp
refreshing in the rain
rejuvenating the earth as I pass by
POTD
Tipping the light with curves arched
and flowing with rain,
she mounts her tinseled limbs
on summertime's crest--
The trees, seeds, and flame
in her eyes lightly open
the fingertips of near August.
Quick to beat on belly drums,
her shadow trance melts
the liquid stars in one tender rush...
How unbridled and young is she,
holding the skirt that lifts into a dance
of raw abandon: the moon hangs
like a harp strutting a rhumba that drifts
on gloss of her arms:
And if every detail of silk on her derriere
can be sewn in weaves fondling her shade ,
this she shall bring too...
In a summer of July's reckless abandon.
First place~
.~
"Pretty clouds filled with water, then it rains down." By Poet
I love to sit and watch the clouds,
as they dance across the big blue sky.
If I watch and wait what will I see,
animals like a zoo walking by.
One day I ask a big bright white cloud,
where are you going?
I was shocked when it answered back,
off to play it replied to me.
I did not know clouds could talk,
then I heard back-as a rule we don't.
I asked-how can pretty clouds rain down?
We get sad from traveling over the world,
when we have had enough then we rain tears down.
The Storm uttered his vengeful voice
Breathing threats on all mortals below.
With power he showed his flashing bolts
And shook the earth with his mighty hands.
The trees cried loudly as they were rent.
The rivers drank more than they could bear.
Creatures hid in quivering protest
As the storm’s soldiers marched quickly by.
When he passed there came a gentle touch.
His life was squandered in his fury.
The sky shone forth his bright epitaph
And mere mortals spoke ill of the dead.
Upon the earth renewed life sprang forth
And nature was blessed by his fury.
The hatred of the Storm King withal
Became the source of much grace below.
I am...
quintessential optimism;
the rainbow you see
after the rain is gone.
I am...
order amid the chaos;
l reconstruct
life's crumbled foundation.
I am...
beauty in ugliness;
don't avert your eyes!
I am...
a celestial messenger,
so prick up your ears.
I'm asking you
to choose faith over fear;
things aren't as bad as they seem.
I'm asking you
to walk out on darkness,
to me, the light.
I'm asking you
to believe in dreams;
they are real and true.
I'm asking you
to look to the sky
when you're lost;
I am your North star.
David Bowie sang
a song about me;
yes, you guessed it
I am...
Starman,
but, I'm also...
guess who?
“How-do-you-do?” the seminal leaves of Autumn wave.
“When would you like to fly away?” prickles the gust.
Maternal-oak holds on tight as one birdy takes flight.
The gust will have none of this ballyhoo, knowing
what he must do, calls for fingernails-on-chalkboard rain,
for the bad-wolf-wind, for lightning, insane.
“Toodle-loo,” says each spiderling-leaf, parachuting to earth.
They make such a scene; whirligig and wandering,
each drenched in colloquial colors, memorable, forsaken.
Each one in turn catches a potential eye even as it lands
in puddles, whirling and twirling, a final splash. They mourn
as blends of orange, yellow and red bleed into the stream.
Undignified, decomposing, going under, all poetry spent,
dwarfing and drifting; washed away down the drain.
Spring regeneration haphazardly avoids loose-leaf goosebumps.
In the palm of nightforest and rain
I leave imprints on sands ,
my flesh baked by the elements --my nipples and breasts darting towards the sky in full radiance of an alchemy,
where this womb in pure sheen becomes a cradle for ancient offerings:
tangle of thistle and roots sprawl on my bodice , glossed skin rubbed, flamed then offered to gods like mute lamb...
Slipping into this inner glow, I hear again men's whisper of my divine power
hidden within these molden eyes, fierce as sea glass , an amulet designed by Spirit,
my berry lips seemingly chanting of miracles,
of treasures untold...
I lay still among sandbeds and wait,
if chieftains and men would ever know
my heritage comes only from broken refuse of littered stones.
She’s dainty and pretty in pink and purple
Modeling her ruffled dress and her fuchsia hat
As her long and slender legs dance in the wind
She’s intoxicatingly beautiful and enchanting
Wild bees seductively buzz all around her
Waiting to taste her dewy petals and nectar
A hummingbird stops and sips in her beauty
The wind picks up as her ruffles sway all around
A light rain quenches her in a cool misty dew
Her whimsy’s short lived as she soon drops off
I am the mountain that stands still in the sky,
casting away doubt to all questions why
I stand with strength, the same you are granted
Sharing the beauty of trees that are planted
I do not move with strong wind or fall with rain
I am a symbol to show that all can sustain
I reach high through clouds, to be seen from afar
Always a reminder that you can shine like a star
I change colors with foliage and highlight each season
I provide various scenery to you for a reason
I am the mountain with peace, the birds fly to
I am the calm stillness, that is deep within you
Refreshing Rain sits beside Withering Rose
inquiring if He might settle around Her.
She gladly accepts the offer He bestows,
a more precious blessing She could not prefer.
She felt the nourishment from petals to toes,
grateful to Him for His gift of life transfer.
Sometimes we need a little help from our friends
for gracious compassion and kindness it lends.
Quote By Poet "The faces of pretty flowers will brighten anyone's day."
Here in a lovely garden we sit,
growing very close-knit.
Our faces of pretty color,
are bigger than a sand dollar.
We love to get a kiss from the rain,
makes our growing not feel in vein.
The bees came by to say hello,
they give us a big glow.
It is said we are an annual plant,
we are loved by the owner's aunt.
Shout out loud and proclaim,
Zinnia is our name.
CLOUD
I am a cloud, floating up here today
White with edges touched with grey
Look up, look up, even if you stare
Some call me fluffy but that’s unfair
Not namby-pamby nimbus, so there
I’ve a proud identity of which I care
I am a cumulus with a storm in mind
And can bring heavy rain, you’ll find
Even at this height, I’m not confined
I’m a harbinger of rain, I will not lie
I’m not like those cirrus, way up high
Seen way up there, scraping the sky
I may be turning quite black later on
Yet with strong winds, I may be gone
So, it’s now something to think upon
Just one among many, as it must be
Yet despite that, I’m a distinct entity
But if you can, please remember me
I am a metaphor for tears,
born from murky clouds,
pouring gracefully or rampantly,
in a choreography of liquid grace,
dancing to the sound of pitter patter,
upon rooftops and window panes~
but I am mercy,
flourishing your crops,
nurturing roots of blossoms,
softening hydrated lands.
Yet cursed by climate change,
I am blamed for human neglect.
My Creator-endowed rays of celestial magnitude
Emit solar power, enabling Earth’s existence-plenitude
Fulfilling my commitment to rise daily with glowing altitude…
Vibrantly warming mankind toward enthusiastic attitude
I brighten the firmament while my beams awaken the multitude
Toward zealous praises for a new day along triumphant zest of gratitude…
Blowing my photosynthetic aptitude
I pursue oxygen production midst energy source amplitude
To replenish food supply, securing nourishment against crisis vicissitude…
I delight in everyone’s disposition by my sunny beatitude
While reaching-out those in solitude to bask in my jubilant quietude
Rejoicing for doing best as the “greater light to rule the day”* with certitude.
*Genesis 1:16 16 And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night: he made the stars also.
March 25, 2024
3rd place, "Wind, Rain, Snow, Thunder or Sun in 8-12 Lines" Poetry Writing Contest; Sponsored by Tania Kitchin; judged on 4/5/2024
I crash and boom
People fear me
I lash and loom
None come near me
I rock and roll
Children I scare
You can't control
My anger flare
Lightning's my bro
Rain's my sister
Where'er she'll go
I'll assist her