Monsoon Woes
Rustling leaves
Stirring leaves
Hope-filled eyes!
Bumble bees
Blanketing clouds
Goose pimples!
Nostrils alert
Rain-smell sighted
Expectant skin
Static clouds
Stilled breeze
Skin rains
Scanty, the rain
Stubborn, the grime
Ragging, the sun
Clear, the sky
Fickle, the clouds
Restive, the seed!
Nothing to set
Summer apart
Fading monsoon dreams!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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My Sneaking Tears
How heavy fell the rain that day
From burdened clouds of mournful grey.
The torrent forced them stay their height -
Composure swayed by onerous might.
My skin wrung wet with icy chill
As mud embraced that sodden hill;
But mind of mine had elsewhere gone -
'Twas clouds abandoned I was on.
The driving drops advanced their gears
To camouflage my sneaking tears -
Whence now did swell such floods of pain
To see me melt into this rain…
On equal bearing now were we:
This rain, myself, in harmony.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
Rain rain rain rain rain rain rain rain
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What if it rains?
A farmer sows the seed
Even if he doesn't know whether it will rain or not
He waits for the rain,
Patiently hoping that the clouds will come
That the rain will come
What if it doesn't rain?
It is painful to wait for the dark without clouds
You never know whether you should continue waiting or not
As the dark approaches without the cloud,
You can't help but ask yourself one question,
What if it doesn't rain?
What if it rains?
What if the seed becomes a tree?
What if the fruit grows and the birds build nests
What if the cooing of doves is heard in the land?
The dark is without clouds
But the farmer continues waiting
Hoping it will rain
If it does not rain
The seed will eventually die but the farmer will not
poem by Philani Zincume
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Anticipation
I sleep in the morn.
I do not wish to rise.
I hear the rain
and I know the skies
are crying big raindrops
and the clouds are gray.
The approaching hours
will begin my day.
Oh how I need to see the sun
come out from the clouds
to burn my skin
and heat up this frame of mind I'm in.
I can't stay put in this tiresome bed.
Too many thoughts will destroy my head.
All I need is one word from you,
then the rain and clouds could not get through.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Songs Of The Sky
In a sky of layered clouds,
dawn becomes a rainbow,
moving through the spectrum
toward the day.
In a sky of always blue,
no clouds ride the wind:
the sun burns brightly,
high and hot and long.
In a sky of may grays,
clouds crash, explode and roar;
rain-filled winds sweep across the prairie.
In a sky of many blues,
clouds dance on the wind;
and endless and quixotic
Rohrschach test.
In a sky of always gray,
no clouds seem to move;
overcast blots out imagination.
In a sky of cold, cold blue,
gray clouds scrape the treetops;
harbingers of winter storms to come.
Beneath a sky of darkening gray,
the prairie grasses rustle
on the small, forgotten farms
of what could've been
and was.
In a sky of mottled gray,
cold rains fall, now and then;
the seasons struggle
for control of April.
In a sky of broken gray,
cold winds precede the rains;
and before long
the darkened clouds re-gather.
In a sky as clear as glass,
and blue from top to bottom,
sultry days of August
slowly drift into September.
In a twi-lit noon-time sky,
this annular eclipse
leaves us just a
ring around the moon.
In a sky of many clouds,
sunset's an inferno;
ablaze, in this,
my father's final twilight.
In a sky that slowly burns,
the clouds of fire fade
and leave a darker beauty
to hold the night.
poem by William Kruse
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The First Rain of Monsoon
In the month of May
The Summer does sway
The first rain of Monsoon
The drizzling started very soon
The weather is so pleasing
In the evening
The breeze is blowing
the leaves are hovering
At the tender touch of rain drops
Rain is good for upcoming crops
The nature get rejuvenated
Spirit of living life elevated
Water in the form of rain
Never goes in vain
Whether India, England or Spain
People wish rain to come again
Pouring in the valleys, raining in the plain
The thirsty Earth values the rain
After the rain sky is clear
The shining leaves become dear
Listen to the music of nature
New melody of every creature
Flattering of the leaves together
Soft gargling sound of water
Enjoying the rain with pleasure
Writing poem on beauty of nature
Shashikant Nishant Sharma
{Written on 12 May,2012 on experiencing the soft touch of first drizzle of the Monsoon in Delhi. The weather was unforgettable and moments cherishable.}
poem by Shashikant Nishant Sharma
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Whispering Breeze
A soft, whispering breeze, stirs the leaves on the trees,
And then suddenly, a gust, lifts the dry settled dust,
Things start moving about, and now there's no doubt,
That a storm's on the way, coming in from the bay.
So it's shutters up folks, there's no time now, for jokes,
Batten down all things loose, and bring in the old goose,
Or she'll screech out in fright. Now hold her quite tight.
There, the rain has begun, and the winds having fun.
It'll hang around for a bit, so we'll just wait and sit,
Until all's calm once again, with the going of the rain,
Clouds will part, sun will peep, and the foliage weep,
And a soft, whispering breeze, will stir the leaves on the trees.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Sonnet: The Wind
What shakes the trees so violently? ’Tis Wind;
What moves the clouds hither/ thither? ’Tis Wind;
What takes the tornado around? ’Tis Wind;
What brings the sandstorm on the earth? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the cool and gentle breeze? ’Tis Wind
What makes the boughs and leaves to dance? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the autumn leaves to fall? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the honey-bees to fly? ’Tis Wind.
What makes pollen reach in showers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the dust to climb towers? ’Tis Wind;
What spreads the perfume of flowers? ’Tis Wind;
What makes the rain-clouds advance far? ’Tis Wind.
What makes the Wind to blow? ’Tis God;
What makes a Tempest stop? ’ Tis our Lord.
7-18-2001
poem by John Celes
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Day Gone By
The clouds floating,
Like a lazy summer day.
The silver reflections,
Glitter and light my eyes.
The blue clear and bright,
The colour rich with promise.
The clouds gentle now,
As the summer storm has passed.
The day done.
The hours and minutes gone.
I feel the green of the leaves,
In this balmy summer's eve.
(Bolton, UK. Tuesday 26 June 2007)
poem by Champaben Mistry
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Rain (II)
It thundered as if it would rain;
Appeared sultry as if to feign;
The Sky was clear but blue-black now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The clouds were dense and moved slowly;
Lightning patterned the Sky fiercely;
The Wind was almost absent now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The Birds were quiet and nested;
Awaiting the downpour, they rested;
The Monsoon was active for now;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
A few droplets of Rain did fall;
Atop the heads of people on stroll;
Afraid, each hurried to his home;
It looked as if the Rain would come!
The Rain did come! The Rain did come!
For once rightly, the Rain did come!
poem by John Celes
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Monsoon Woes II
Nothing to set
Summer apart
Fading monsoon dreams!
Scorching sun
Dripping sweat
Awaiting rain!
Sterile cloud
Pricking heat
Rain holiday!
Reptiles crawling
Spewing hot venom
Respite sought!
Hot vapours rose
Still thirsty, sun gulped rain
Humid heat returns!
Drought gets sprinkled
Like arid seeds and dust
Darkness around eyes!
Sun stomps
Grass seed bud and beetle
Mud cakes'dirge!
Baked earth
Dry eyes
Silent mourning!
Clouds collide
Empty vessels cling clang
Wrinkled earth, lost!
Dust in the eyes
Dust in the ears
Dust in the hands!
Storms do rise
Not on the sea
Of dust on earth!
From cracks of earth
Crawl reptiles upwards
For cool respite!
Yesterday's dead dog
Lies baked and stiff
None to care!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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A Secret To Prosperity!
Wandering clouds not so focused,
For where to rain, it not yet decided,
Running from country to country,
Gathering the seeds that can spray,
People look up for rain, but no clouds,
Bright yellow sun and the blue sky,
The tears of rain in their deepened eyes,
The shopping clouds look down at them,
Clumsy they are and hunger rules them,
The proud clouds with the bounty of water,
Hate these poor people and move quicker,
And there are green mountains with flowers,
The running clouds stop all of a sudden,
For it amazed by the swelling of that woman,
Just start to clear what it stores for many hours,
Heavy rain on the mountain and the river sisters,
Flow down to the civilization, the rich people,
All around, as they know how to save water,
People who are ignorant of importance of forest,
Fell the trees for quick money and luxury,
Those who already felled, know the misery,
The clouds in the sky, know this exactly,
The poor will remain poor, if not sorry,
And to replant the trees quickly.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The Rain Tolls
And the rain sounded like hail,
From the rooftops - a galvanized frailty
To whom does the rain toll?
The marred corners are baying prudently,
And soon the thunder would crash like the foliage,
For whom does the rain fall?
Then all the people who basked underneath the rain,
From puddles, the images hang loose from the terrain,
To whom does the murk of the wind call?
The cold monsoon blusters,
And the trees sprawl to their forefathers,
Tell me underneath the pouring savagery, for whom does the wind stall?
A chasm waiting to be filled,
By the zenith that scampers throughout the fields,
I am bludgeoned by the wind as it scrolls
The sun failed to resurface – collapsed blatancy
As the clouds tender with rain graced ardently
Dullard as it would appear, the rain proceeds to sear
And by the dying moments of the rain,
The slivers of sleeping restive waters breathe
To give life to one more tempest – in me.
poem by Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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Rain
Rain
~
The darkened rain clouds
they hold no fear for me
the rain which fall purifies
it feeds the plants and trees
washes the filth from the streets
cleans the air which we breathe
I hold a special place for it
as cold and bitter as it comes
however much it soaks the skin
the rain remains beautiful
a serenade against the window
a powerful image portrays
the true might of nature
the gathering clouds darken
birds fly away to dry nest
before the sky breaks open
and either by patter or a roar
the rain it comes to fall and fall
for all I see it purifies the soul
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Summer
Summer is over,
washed away by the rain.
Summer is over,
covered by leaves of fall.
Summer is over,
frozen like the ponds.
Summer is over,
now the sun must die.
Summer is over,
grey clouds fill the sky.
Summer is over-
We must say: Good bye...
poem by Anne Harkonen
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We can speak without voice to the trees and the clouds and the waves of the sea. Without words they respond through the rustling of leaves and the moving of clouds and the murmuring of the sea.
quote by Paul Tillich
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain... Rain... Rain...!
Rain on tinned roof
Rain on concrete
Rain soaking into sands
Rain on soft earth
Rain on metal road
Rain on windscreen
Rain falling into the sea
Rain in the river
Rain on flowers
Rain on leaves
Rain under trees
Rain on hills
Rain on my skin…
Each with its own unique raga
Reverberates across the sky
On to the earth…
05aug2010
10.30hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Clouds
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue;
Rain, the rain descends aslant from angry ashen skies;
Winds, the winds bemoan their loss of reins and calm control;
Shades, the shades appear suffused, alone in lurid haze;
Trees, the trees enshroud the eyes of misty brooding woods;
Leaves, the leaves desert their branches, falling one by one;
Birds, the birds intone a tune, a mourning monody;
Grass, the grass surrenders blades, impaled in truant winds;
Fields, the fields imbibe and quaff to quench an arid thirst;
Stones, the stones repulse the pearls, exploding tears of gloom;
Streams, the streams meander, hushed, to distant vapid shores;
Clouds, the clouds diffuse a sad and somewhat somber hue
poem by Terry O'Leary
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Last Days of Summer
Breathe the joy of summer for one more day
Bask in the shade of accommodating trees
Smell the sweet fragrance of lilies and roses
Watch, as golden nectar is gathered by bees
The blueness of the sky is calm and peaceful
Elongating wisps of chalky white smoke trails
Streak silently across the highest elevations
A glint of sliver leads the heavenly portrayal
Young sidewalk artists add a dazzling flavor
Rainbows and butterflies decorate the concrete
Outlines of elephants and tigers roam carefree
Ex outsmarts circle with a diagonal defeat
Crowns of branches are brushed with tinges of gold
Breezes intensify as leaves cascade to the ground
Dark rain clouds invade, erasing summer fantasies
Cooling joyful summer dreams as the rain pounds
9/8/07
poem by Theresa Ann Moore
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Natural Rhythm
Looking at a meadow, a field of spring’s delight,
with insects fluttering and twittering in flight,
chirping thought the day and in to the twilight.
The butterflies flap an unkempt melody,
contrasted by the sharp humming of a bumblebee,
all balancing an earthly composed symphony.
Even the clouds cast lightning like a conductor,
followed by a seemingly catastrophic blunder,
a raucous rumbling blast of cacophonic thunder.
Now when I look out of my window,
I see the clouds casting a shadow,
upon those fields so open and fallow.
With their grass and flowers swaying in the breeze,
matching the rhythm of the leaves,
a musical rustling amongst the trees.
The whole world seems to mimic this mime,
all moving to and fro, always in time,
as if dancing to a melodic chime.
Maybe the world is not asleep,
and the patter of rain, that the clouds do weep,
is really the Earth’s rhythmical heartbeat.
poem by Dale Mullock
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Clouds Of My Life
There moves the cloud
with the wind that blows
So bright and white
like the pages of my life…
I sit near the window
and watch those clouds
That shows me the way
my life is being shaped…
Never was I able to
see the clouds
Have the same shape
in every minute of my life…
Why does this happen
is what I think
But everyday is not the same
is what it says to me…
I see the winds
blow off the clouds
Which makes me think
when will my life be blown off? ...
It's hard to see
black clouds coming in between
Making my worst fears
strike into my mind…
It rains day and night
making me feel happy and sad
Happy to see the black clouds fading
but sad about losing the clouds…
Dreams of mine takes
shape in the clouds
Always showing me the face
of the person I like…
It always reminds me
my life is in world's hands
No matter how hard I try
can't change the fate of my life…
It's nice to see the clouds
every morning I wake up
This reminds me there is still a day
because I see the "Clouds of my Life"…
poem by Sowkoor Nischal Shetty
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