Gray stains the sky,
bleeding through layers of atmosphere.
The whole world starts to cry,
raining its tears upon my skin.
I soak in its sorrow,
and accept what has happened.
An idea slowly seeps into my mind,
and I let it reign, but my limbs remain lifeless at my sides.
My head is in a dreamless daze,
as the world spins bleakly by.
Then suddenly my feet start to carry me.
They take me along a new path,
one never walked.
I trample young weeds, Read more »
Slivers of fire
Slices of blue ice
Golden-green of a meadow
On a summer's day.
Read more »
Rain On The Windowpane
Listening to the rain
pattering on my windowpane.
I lie in bed
remembering that the cats are not fed.
and wonder why
it has to rain
pattering on my window pane.
It’s keeping me from going out
and causing me to pout.
pattering on my window pane.
Rain is the sadness that starts in the fall.
Rain is the sorrow of god and of all.
Rain is the tears of those who cry.
Rain is what makes wet from dry.
Rain is like truth of all and of past.
Rain does not forever last.
Rain is never queens nor kings.
Rain is the life of all things.
Rain is not shadow nor dust.
Rain is an important trust.
Rain is a beautiful sight.
Rain is just waiting for light.
Rain is the beginning of beauty itself.
Rain has taught me to be myself.
Rain is my one true friend.
Rain is always the start not end.
This is a series of poems that reveal a story.
There’s a storm a comin’
I can feel it rushing through my veins like the blood from my limbs
Dripping through my heart like the reactants of my life
Blowing across my body like wind from my lungs
The rain is here
Pouring down from above
Blowing from here to there
Coming down faster and faster
Cries down from heaven
Blowing trees back and forth
Creating a disaster waiting to happen
Of what to become of this storm
A man will slip or a car will slide
A terrible accident will occur Read more »
Puddles everywhere, deep and wet
running through them with my friends
drops of dew in the morn
the sun here again once after the storm.
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The smell of a storm,
Lingers in the air,
The sound of the rain,
Pitter pattering on the ground.
A small streak of lightning,
Peeks out from the mist,
Giving the clouds a kiss.
The rain pours down,
So hard against the ground,
Making thick puddles all around. They sky turns dark grey,
Oh the wonders of May.
"Rain, rain go away. Come again another day." Most people, whether young or old, think this phrase the second a droplet of water falls from the sky and interrupts their perfect day. As if all of their plans have now been ruined by this clap of thunder crashing down with a roar of a thousand angry men. The nice dry dirt getting wetter with every tear spilled on it from the sky. Forming to thick, unsympathetic mud. Read more »
Five years old, the girl was happy. She had spent the day outside, wearing a knee length dress and basking in the warm summer sun. But now the sky was clouding over, and her mother was telling her to “Come inside, honey, it’s going to storm.” But before she had a chance to protest, the clouds began to tilt, and the water that had been precariously balanced on the once level playing field of the sky began to fall. Slowly, but fall nonetheless. Read more »
Every person in that small town of Emberland had a common belief that binded the village together. Men, women, children, seniors and even old man Puckerson’s dog dreaded cried and moaned for the falling of rain. This was not some petty concern of hair being ruined or picnics needing to be cancelled. The matter at hand was beyond all of us in that dreary town. The plummeting rain of two years before, had killed, murdered every infant breathing in the town. Read more »
The sound of rain is peaceful. The pitter-patter of raindrops on the roof makes me fall asleep into a dream of colors. A blue sky, the white clouds, the green grass, everything. Everything the rain touches is pretty and wet. The smell of freshly fallen rain makes me go tingly inside. I wish it could rain forever, but I know that it’s impossible. Read more »
Storm of rain
Mini rain drops
On grass that bends
That thunder mends
Branches of pine
Yours and mine
Winds are howling
Looks like night
But it’s day
I love the rain.
I love it when it lands on my face.
When it fills up the holes in the roads and creates puddles.
I love to run through them and jump into them.
I love standing there in the puddle,
Letting the water fill up my shoes and soak my socks.
I love running around when it’s pouring,
Feeling the rapid “pings” on my face as the droplets come down rapidly.
I love to go to friend’s house and play outside in the rain.
The two of us running around, getting soaked.
I love the rain.
Lullaby of nature
Listen closely to hear.
Steady and flowing
I love a rainy Saturday when it’s dark, cloudy, and cold outside. All I want to do is wrap myself in blankets and sit down with a good book all day long. Those kinds of days are prime for reading because there are no distractions of wanting to go outside or something of that sort. The days that are like these are ones that most people probably hate because they want to get outside and work on the garden, but to me, they are the perfect days because I only want to read. Read more »
I don’t mind the rain, never have. I especially love the rain that makes all the leaves look greener, the road blacker, and the air smell fresh. Standing in the summer rain is my favorite thing to do, letting the rain pound on my open arms giving me goose bumps, having little patches of hair plastered to my face and grass stuck to my toes. These are a few of my favorite things about rain.
She acts like summer,
she walks like rain.
Everybody wants to be happy,
everybody wants to be without pain,
but you can’t reach the rainbow
unless you have a little rain.
My mom always tells me,
life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass;
it’s about learning to dance in the rain.
This is why I have a new way
of looking at rain..
Raindrops kissed the top of my head and ran down my damp cheeks.
I desperately wished I could just fly down the hill. Thud. Thud. My big boots thumped down the hill as my head looked down at the ground, obsessing over the thick, deformed, slimy worms appearing before me. Read more »
A cloud stumbles into the sky.
Before I know it the sky is milky gray,
deep with wrinkles of storm clouds.
Their blemishes are the speckled dark spots
in the blur of an overcast atmosphere.
A tropical breeze blows my hair in wisps
around my face.
A trickle of warmth travels down my spine-
one vertebrae at a time.
Suddenly a neon bolt splits the heavens.
I sit very still in my seat
waiting for it to pass.
“How long will we have to wait here?” Read more »
Rain can mean a lot of things. It can mean good things, or bad things. A rainy day can be full of boredom and dreariness, but a rainstorm can crackle with excitement.
Often in books or movies, rain is used to capture the mood in a scene. In J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter 7, for instance, it is used to show the escalation of a big fight. During the whole thing, the tap tap tap of the rain on the roof gets louder and stronger until one of the arguers storms out. Read more »
I woke up to a gray sky flashing through my window. It was supposed to be such a beautiful day. I got out of bed, and tried to remember what I was going to do today, but it just would not come to me. I walked around my house doing the morning routine. Until my father said, “ Are you ready to go?”
I looked at him with a face full of questions until it hit me, we were leaving that morning to go to Lake Umbagog in Errol, New Hampshire. About a hour later we were in my family's truck with our boat pulled behind it. I was ready to have a long and cold trip. Read more »
I have had a bad experience with rain and thunder storms. It all happened 3 years ago in 4th grade. I was walking home from school when it all happened. It scared me so bad.
At school it started to rain. It was just drizzling. Later on at lunch it was raining like not hard rain but not an easy drizzle. Then at the end of the day it was coming down hard. When I got on the bus the bus driver said “ I better get you home quick.” Read more »
Shadows playing tricks
Frightening the wolves
Illuminating the sky
Sharply lashing out
Rain thundered down
Lightning lit the night sky
The storm ended
Thunder booms in darkness
Fearing the jagged
Across the gray sky
Parents not home
Rips through the night
Drying off inside
The day after the storm was so beautiful. The raindrops clung to anything and everything, sometimes letting their grip slip, letting a drop or two fall on her head. Read more »
The pitter-patter of rain beats against my window
And the tap of my pen against my paper.
I long for the morning,
The small of rain against the pavement
Cleansing away the boring smell of past days
Bringing with it a new clean smell
For a fresh start.
And it brings me back to the summer days,
Lazing on the dew covered grass
with my sisters, and friends,
Lazing around for the last days of our precious summer,
which has gone all to quickly.
But summer will come again
bringing with it it's small showers,
and the smell of a fresh start.
From inside I hear
The rain streaming down the drainpipe
Thumping down on the roof
A crack of thunder booms overhead
I walk out the door
I feel the rain on my skin
I don’t want this to ever end