It's raining, it's pouring,
The old man is snoring,
He went to bed,
And he bumped his head,
And he couldn't get up in the morning.
It's raining, It's pouring,
His family are mourning,
He is dead,
He bumped his head,
and he didn't wake up in the morning.
Rain, Rain, go away,
Come again another day,
He went to bed,
Heart full of dread,
and he didn't wake up in the morning.
It's Raining, Its pouring,
Take this as a warning,
Don't be mislead,
And go to your bed,
And head this old man's warning.
Her big beautiful eyes were piercing me up and close
Her playful smile playing all over, vainly trying to prepare me
But, as always, in a trance I lay, heart pounding, mind blanked out.
Completely unaware of everything, except her unabashedly gorgeous presence.
Moments passed, without a word, without an act
Didn't know it was that typical lull before the storm
And then it stormed down, here, there and everywhere
Voluptuous kisses, first gently in isolation and then unending showers.
Me taken completely by surprise, pinned, breathless, overwhelmed.
But, at the same time, enjoying the wildness, the ecstasy, the euphoria.
To get drenched in the first flush of rain, I guess, is always memorable.
'It's raining!' my little one exclaims, and I nod, struggling to look out.
Raining Bombs
Why do strangers shed blood?
Open waters, there's another flood.
War against their own brothers.
Weapons used to hurt others.
Where do we run too?
The war has been measured to you.
Fight to survive.
Stand tall for one life.
The sky is raining bombs.
What is the point of this when too many will fall?
The sky is on fire.
Sadness is in the air.
Not one stone will be on top of the other.
Everything has fallen in 24 hours.
The ultimate war will never end.
Through the smoke we all need a friend.
A nightmare has begun.
Pull them out of the rubble and lend a hand.
You can’t bury the dead.
Our enemy must pay for what they did.
I pray over those who are gone.
This is your 9/11, we have a bond.
Hold up a candle to remember the lost.
Walk with me and take up the cross
Raining Tears
Dr Ranjit Dutta
I cry for the pain
That I've known,
I cry for the heartache
That still lingers on.
I cry for the love
That's lost its way,
I cry for the memories
That fade with each passing day.
I cry for the fears
That I've yet to face,
I cry for the doubts
That creep in and take their place.
I cry for the weight
That I carry inside,
I cry for the emotions
That swirl and cannot subside.
I cry because I'm human,
Let my tears drop like rain
Where my heart can heal,
And my soul can find its space.
RAINING HEARTBEAT
My supreme heartbeat.
echoing sweet thunder, as
its cloud, raindrops love:-
RAINING LOVE
(A Haiku Duo)
Heartbeat echoing...
Thunder and lightning appear...
Love's rain is coming...
Heartbeats echoing,
thunder and lightning beeping;
heart-clouds raining love:-
I sank like a fatigued sunset in a storm,
leaving a vase of grieving roses~
filled with thistles and weathered verses,
while I await moonlight to kiss my weeping pillow…
But can the sky erase the synonyms of grief,
when raining ruins is all this heart weaves?
My leader has spoken once again
I listen with my one ear, on the right
I cut the evil left one off
to honour the wisest man of payoffs
who almost gave up his life for me
all so that he keeps his private jet
and keeps America free
now he has spoken more wise words
eat cats and dogs, I know at first seems absurd
he's never been wrong, ever before
so off I went in me pickup over to the pound
it seemed to warm the volunteers hearts
that I took all strays, a la carte
all this time been eating the wrong sort of critters
squirrels and possum and the occasional pigeon
well shhh about cousin Jed's little pet hamsters
tasty buggers was all that matters
my leader though has given me a new diet
so now I eat dogs, and for desert then the cats
he was right, as he always is
tasty son of guns, even better than my rats
now if Trump was from down under and I swear this true
pretty sure Id be having some BBQ Kangaroo
I am just proud to wave my American guns
making America great, eating one pet at a time
now do not try and stop me, I have more ammo
than you illegal immigrants have pennies and dimes
From this window open to sunshine,
one may think that it's not raining
on that lonely road forgotten by time...
but raindrops won't stop falling!
That was the only place of solitude and peace,
the furthest place where we couldn't be seen by others,
warm grass was the perfect bed so soft to eager fingers,
while above noisy seagulls performed a dance!
It's raining on that lonely road,
raindrops erased our footsteps
mockingbirds flew around us,
we didn't mind being followed!
From a wide window over the breezy, balmy bay
the young composer at the piano hits high notes,
their sound delights the painter with hair color clay;
he draws scenes dipping his brush in pretty colors!
It's raining on that lonely road,
no dreary rainy day thrills anybody;
we all have a past secretive world
that echoes with a sweet memory!
It's raining fish
Big jumping fish
On river Quay.
Raining
Misty, heavy
Drizzling, trinkling, sprinkling
Dash of gentle rain from the sky
Streaming
raindrops of summer,
cooling kisses from the sky,
petrichor filled nose
I watch my verdant eyes envious as the botanicals blossom in a sandstone sunrise glow,
I am a forlorn figure wandering in my fog of fears,
I cannot omit my icy turbulent tears,
Our short saga of passion much like the snow keeps me on the slippery slopes of sorrow,
Unlike the spring my heart is wary of healing,
I have tried to evolve like my kin as their colours modify with the sky,
But my reckless resilience sits saturated in puddles of pity,
I am perpetually a grey shadow lost in winter's chill,
I sometimes ask the cotton candy clouds to glimmer their cedar joy upon my perils,
Their intellectual gapes tell me I must find my internal self-love to glide with other stems again,
I know you're the perilous storm I sowed, but I desire to leave behind our wilting tale.
I wish to burn these bitter beads of pain, yet like the summer rain, I’m struggling to allow a fluorescent rainbow to shine its rays of hope.
Instead, I wallow in the equinox between light and dark,
I fill my petals with pesticides because they resemble you, I wait patiently for this period of despair to depart, as no emotion can linger eternally.
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.
Like a welcome Summer rain, humor may suddenly
cleanse and cool the earth, the air and you.
—Langston Hughes
RAINING IN SUMMER
The little teapot leaned over, steam pours out,
sizzles on the pavement. Trickles, sprinkles,
waters the subsidiary gardens that sprout -
those pointed out by a grandson. My wrinkles
curve up as the rain skillfully waters my willow,
my patch of roses and lilies, scattered and rare.
With Summer storm, I ruminate on a long time ago.
This grand-generation of blessing, not yet a prayer.
Drip…drop…splosh! The hope of the window pane.
We dream, as the outburst streams down to spill
our dreams, like seeds giving more than the mundane.
God saturates our lives with more than we will.
It’s raining Summer all over this land of honey-wheat.
Though droll and gray, a grateful soak gifts a sun rise.
My flower petals, leaves and boughs bathed in heat
and nourishing drink, replenishing the owls, and other wise.
Ker-splash, the puddles of inky-mud, stain the shins,
leave me, us, them, refreshed and sodden with grins.
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