Weather Poems | Examples of Weather Poetry

After the Storm: My Dance

After the Storm: My Dance

A Personal Reflection Amid Rain and Wind
Part of my dance-
Of rain, of wind, of storm.
Beneath these battered eaves, 
With my heart still echoing the thunder,
I find joy in the hush-
The gentle peace that only comes
After my world is shaken clean
By rain,
By wind,
By storm.
Each thunderclap lingers in my bones,
The rain's cool fingers

Imagination

Clouds of many forms, shifting in the sky,
Fading in and out, quietly passing by.
Seeing floating forms in full animation,
Requires a reset of mind’s vibration.

For one must look deeply beyond mere sight,
To see all the shapes in the dark and light.
Open channels of imagination,
Now you recognize the mind’s creation.

Cloud after cloud they begin to connect,
You still

Today is Hot

Today is hot; tomorrow, not.
This summer’s been like this a lot.

It’s tough to know which way to go
When making outdoor plans and so,

You must choose twice, that’s my advice,
For just one thought will not suffice.

A lovely hike, which you might like,
Won’t work if temps begin to spike 

And pouring rain would be a pain
And cause

Breathless

       Tentative steps beyond my front door
         Ten or twelve at most, can’t go more
       Not boldly either, but taken timidly
         No match for the heat and

Bad Weather

Politicians are like weather
That is hanging for decades
Cap in hand we’re light as feather
In the storm that never fades
Who would need a politician 
Their household to manage
Yet some do support ambitions
Of the mentally well damaged
Politicians are archaic 
Sick to hear the master’s voice
All jack russells bark in panic
I would never make a choice
Choosing not myself

climate change

    what comes tomorrow
    leaves some elements of doubt
    earths rain wind and fire
    seems to dominate the skies
    save for our eternal light

    arctics melting ice
    overflowing tropic isles
    oceans

strumenti seosiali

The warmth of the sun on a wintery day alarmed my my natural senses
it made way for me to to prepare in need to gather and prepare or make
ready might the storms of near spring shall find us. Sagacious we bought
meat to freeze and potatoes to store, we gathered onions garlic peppers and salt. We

Summer Is Not Lost

Nette Onclaud’s contest, Seasons Now and After, 
August 11, 2025.

Autumn is here! some flowers still blooming,
but the first freeze is forecast in the news.
Gorgeous flowers face gardeners’ fuming;
every autumn we mourn the garden blues.

The next few days display the dreary glimpse
of what autumn’s coolness chose to unlock.
With sword-like sudden drop in autumn temps,
we find free

Autumn

Autumn

….. is mortally wounded!
It stumbles, tumbles 
across the silken, rouged sky
quivering over rusted hedges
shivering through shouldered trees,
splattering, smattering 
everything in blood-red.

On it goes, on it flows
gasping and grasping
at clouds of bandages,
hobbling, wobbling 
suffering deep gashes;
haemorrhaging life
in crimson splashes.

While winter;
with the sly smile
of an Arctic fox,
coldheartedly waits for autumn’s
shredded, dreaded last breath!

Ian Souter 2025

The Winds Of Spring

weeping willow trees
     long limbs lashing and slashing
          in the winds of spring

Downpour

the lightning flashing
     the booming of the thunder
          torrential downpour

The Killick Holds

  The calendar showed January 1899,
  there were only a few hours of real daylight
  He set out in his poor man's boat, early dawn
  Snow and ice did not melt until mid-May
  The cold bit his face and hands,
  he had to try to obtain some food on

AUTUMN IS NEAR

Can you feel something is about to change,
is it in the air everywhere you turn?
Much cooler mornings and nights are coming,
less sunshine each day for us to enjoy.
Days getting shorter with less time to play,
nights are getting longer with more darkness.
Trees are turning into pretty colors,
colorful leaves will soon be falling down.
Squirrels working very hard

The Lonesome Ballad of H2O

The Ballad of H2O (International Version)

He reached his boiling point at one hundred degrees.
When he dropped to zero, he would freeze.
Everything he did, he did just like he oughter,
(in Centigrade) - that's water!

The Ballad of H2O (US Version)

Arriving at two-twelve Fahrenheit, 
his roiling bubbles gave steaming flight,
but descending South to thirty-two, 
he froze in his

The Calm Before The Storm

dark clouds are forming
     a smell of rain in the air
calm before the storm

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Poems Related to Weather

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