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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Related quotes
Clouds Shall Pass
I see clouds
Whitish and feathery
Cotton white and feathery
Dark clouds, winds gather,
Winds howl, winds sweep the sky
Sun shines, coloured rainbow bows
little rain spatters, clouds,
Clouds shall clear, the sun winks.
poem by Charles Jagongo Ogola
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Night Shower.
It rained yesterday night,
Blocking the full moon,
Cooling the hot winds,
Rain dancing on the ocean,
Making the birds shiver,
Wet with the rain,
They huddled together,
The rain making small streams
Seen through rays of noon,
Which stole through dark clouds,
The trees swaying
In we wind, whistling
Through it's branches,
Night rain making ghouls
Not venture out,
Lest they get wet,
The forest animals happy,
That their lakes will be full again,
For their daily drink,
Let the night rain continue
To coll the souls inside,
And the body outside.
Ravikiran Arakkal
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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New Season
Up from the hills and down through the valley,
A stream whispers unendingly a fading melody,
As it continues on its aimless journey.
The blazing heat scorching innocent vegetation,
Green leaves gently fading to brown.
The grass shriveled up;
Wilted, forgotten and began to die.
Up high in the treetops birds yet sing their songs,
In ritual of prayers to their gods.
Their songs heard even beyond the blue skies.
Suddenly everything changes,
From elsewhere came the darkening clouds;
Stopping over.................,
The shadow obscuring the sun.
Then the rumble of the rolling thunder
overpowers the birds gentle songs,
The mighty thunder scares the birds.
Trees fall silent as the clouds darkens thick;
It sends down a single drop;
Then another and yet another one.
They patter on the leaves then onto the ground.
In no time the mighty delude overpowers the streams
as it floods to the banks swallowing dirty from the bush.
It cleans the forest as it prepares for the new season
to rein.
As the downpour ceases;
Like birds even trees shake drops of rain to the ground.
The birds tease the summer as it runs away from the
coming season, They bid farewell to it.
The branches swing as they rejoice
to welcome king Autumn.
Vegetation sinking beneath the earth,
Holding firm; it begins to grow in full bloom.
With flowers all over
Giving thanks to the mighty AUTUMN.
poem by Moffat Mbuzi
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The Great Escape
Although the songs the birds sing are
Melodious and benign and
Locusts joyfully repeat their summer's tune-
Leaves upon the trees are emerald and their limbs reach for the sky-
The grass has never been greener- and
Clouds contrast with the oceanic blueness of the sky- Even though
Summer would be the favorite time of year for so many people,
At this time this world has become a foreign and terrifying place to me.
My mind has been lost in the clouds,
Not within the fair clouds that decorate the sky, but
Within the ashen and sallow clouds of hell-
From the window of the vault that contains me
I can see people seemingly worshiping the sun,
However, to me the rays of the sun are somewhat blinding, if not otherwise
Brightening all that is terrifying to see-
Cars racing raucously down the streets without a care- and shining upon
All of the people who would wish me none but harm-
If I were to step outside in this moment-
The sun would sear my flesh and its rays would invade my mind in
A devastating and intrusive sort of way-
People would follow behind me mocking me and
Attempting to rob me of my thoughts as their eyes penetrate mine in
A criminal and invasive manner-
The songs the birds sing are indeed benign and sweetly melodious as
Locusts continue to hum their tune- these sounds are placating as
Are the sight of the grass, trees and the cobalt blue sky-
But somewhere along my journey through this life,
I was robbed of my own place in this world, as well as some have told me
I was deprived of my sanity-
If I could become one of these birds and lift my wings to fly away
High above to lose myself inside the beautiful clouds in the sky and to
Abandon the ashen clouds of hell- perhaps in the sky I would find another world there-
A world suited for me alone- I could still hear the birds and the locusts-
Chanting their tunes with the angels, unaware of the world below -as
My eyes would be blinded to people looking upward toward the sky.
The loss of my sanity would become a blessing because it would mean
I have finally found a place devoid of all harm and infringement because
When I lose myself inside the world of my thoughts and dreams,
The real world which is filled with evil, lack of compassion and cruelty
Totally disappears and I can be content as I have finally found freedom from fear…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Drought
Right through the veldt the grass are dried out yellow,
almost everything under the eye,
the sun burns trees and bushes,
whirlwinds blow red dust clouds high into the air
and it looks as if every bush and tree is stripped of leaves,
the sky is blue and open with all clouds missing
on farms cattle, bucks and sheep are bellowing and bleating
and farmers come to a confession
that all things comes from the hand of God, gather in towns
where they admit the dependence of man
where everything comes to a halt
and they pray to God for rain.
Even the most prominent people pray
while atheists sit in the bars
drinking tot after tot while moaning about the heat
and on the horizon lightning slams down white
while it’s pressing hot clouds gather
before a enormous rainstorm erupts,
a thunderbolt falls on the porch of a bar
rain rattles on the zinc roof
the thirsty red dust flies into the air with big drops falling,
are filled overnight with knee high green grass
and the animals that are feeding in the fields
go plumb to the markets.
poem by Gert Strydom
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In The Open Fields Of Green Grass After The Rain
i walk in there
i see clouds and clear skies
in the open fields of green grass
after a night of rain
i go close to the little brown birds
feeding on the path
and always i like it when they all fly away from me
they hurry and spread in the skies like my morning prayers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Across The Fields
Across the sky, the clouds move,
Across the fields, the wind,
Across the fields the lost child
Of my mother wanders.
Across the street, leaves blow,
Across the trees, birds cry --
Across the mountains, far away,
My home must be.
poem by Hermann Hesse
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Will winds come?
Sky was dark.
Holding thick bundles of rain inside
waiting for winds to
open bundles of rain,
take away heavy bundles
and free me to play with
white cool light clouds.
Sky was worried.
Will winds come and free me
from this dark bundles of rain
making me feel tired
making my knees paining?
When will those winds come?
How long I have to carry these dark bundles?
Waiting for winds
will I fall down
with tiring weakening bundles
of these dark clouds
in my hand?
Even the sun is moving down
with colour changing to red
going for rest for night.
When will these winds come?
Am I destined to fall down
tired and exhausted
with ever increasing burden
of these dark clouds in my hand?
10, September,2008
poem by Thomas Viruvelil
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Teint Neutre
WIDE downs all gray, with gray of clouds roofed over,
Chill fields stripped naked of their gown of grain,
Small fields of rain-wet grass and close-grown clover,
Wet, wind-blown trees--and, over all, the rain.
Does memory lie? For Hope her missal closes
So far away the may and roses seem;
Ah! was there ever a garden red with roses?
Ah! were you ever mine save in a dream?
So long it is since Spring, the skylark waking
Heard her own praises in his perfect strain;
Low hang the clouds, the sad year's heart is breaking,
And mine, my heart--and, over all, the rain.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Dews make Grass and Leaves to Weep!
Neither I am Bruce lee,
I got only bruises fully,
I am not Tiger Woods,
Just fear to Tiger and woods,
I am not the Ronaldo who score
goal after goal,
Only I suffer a lot to achieve a goal,
I am not Jordan or Jackson,
Not even can sprint or jump,
Not I am Tagore or Gibran,
Not even like kayyam or Rumi,
Not my feelings or words can
make others feel,
Not I am Alexander,
the great,
Not That Chengez or Ghazni,
Nor that Ashoka the great, Still dogs and cats,
Trees and birds,
Sun and stars,
Moon and clouds,
Rainbows and flowers
Fruit trees love
me,
As they know how innocently I
love them,
Some day raining clouds may call
me,
the light in that lightning
may take me to my beloved!
Birds may sing farewell, flowers may say good bye,
The morning on which I will not be on earth,
At least, the morning dews make
grass and leaves to shed tears for
me!
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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An autumn storm
An autumn storm
~
The sky turned grey, clouds rolled over
A wind picked up howling through trees
Birds took flight, flew into hiding
Rain patted down gathering pace
The horizon drew a charcoal grey
While winds picked up and rain ran down
Windows rattled, trees swayed
Whistling high pitch, almost screaming
The storm it came and raged wild
Then as quickly, as sudden as it came
It broke to clear skies, wisps of cloud
A gentle wind rolling through leaves
Rain soaked water dripping down
Drying in the sun now shining
An autumn storm in its passing
Captured the imagination to write
On an otherwise ordinary day
poem by Matthew Holloway
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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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Jealous Clouds
The dew of love settles on the blades of grass
In the marshes, the green frogs sleep
While the crickets play their wings like violins
For the hearts of geese to move their feet
And the water streams in content
While the clouds look down on earth
In jealousy clouds want to play
With and on earth's beauty..
They desire the touch of love by the sharp blades of grass
They want to feel the warmth of the frogs sleepy feet on their laps
And listen to the music of the cricket's wings
while they chase the running geese
Jealous clouds want to drink and splash in the azure streams of content
And on earth live in mirth, with the rest of nature's creatures!
O the Jealous Clouds—They can't stuck in heaven they are!
In jealousy they turn gray with sadness and weep
And hide the sun when mad at earth and its light they keep
The jealous clouds roar in thunder to scare our hearts
And tempt us with their purity, dressed in white, soft raiment
The jealous clouds piqued turn vermillion and blush
In admiration of our jealous dreamy eyes…
O jealous clouds how are you jealous of we?
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Mandilyn
As I lie on the grass
In the field upon my back,
At the heavens as I stare,
To remember my love, who now is there.
The clouds they shape her gentle form
The birds they sing her happy song,
The wind again it speaks her name,
As I hear it call for Mandilyn.
Oh how I long for her gentle touch,
How I long for her gentle kiss,
How I long for her loving hug,
Oh Wife, my life, you I miss.
I close my eyes and I see your face,
Lying beside me upon the grass,
Laughing and smiling we are again,
But when I open my eyes, you are gone again.
I see you walking rose in hand,
In the heavens your above this man,
Happy again I see you are,
Oh death, why be you so far.
The clouds they then turn a misty gray,
The wind has stopped calling her name,
The birds they all have flown away,
Then upon my face, it begins to rain.
But is it rain, or is it tears,
Falling from heaven upon this Man,
It is as though my wife’s trying to say,
In heaven again we’ll be together someday.
As I arise from the grass,
I leave the field into the night,
Death it came and it tempted my soul,
But then it left, when my Wife’s love did grow.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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Impressive Stimuli
On the horizon where the earth meets the sky,
the game birds cry.
The winds that blow the clouds that go passing by,
sing and sigh.
The trees, hills, valleys, streams and rivers nearby,
seem to testify.
That gifts of nature laid out so skilfully, for us to spy,
make our eyes amplify.
And no one viewing the scene can therefore deny,
this is impressive stimuli.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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Editing Same Path
I HAVE walked upon this path
alone
and that was years ago
when i still cry
water the pebbles with tears
they do not grow
flowers
there are no trees there
One day
I come down from the clouds
since i am heavy with
rain in my
heart and decide to
walk back the path
of stones
I have seeds of clouds in my pocket
rainbow shoots in my hands
The path have since then
bloomed with dew
and vapors rise to the skies
in prayers
Trees grow and
bees pollinate
a new world is born
since then
and children come and play
their games
again
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Inevitable
The setting sun as daylight fades,
before the dark of night descends.
Must paint the clouds in pastel shades
almost as if to make amends.
Before the dark of night descends.
Soft hues of various shades and grades,
make valiant efforts to defend
their last stronghold from darkness’ raids.
Must paint the clouds in pastel shades
in vain attempt which won’t extend
the closing of the day’s parade.
Today as all days has to end
Almost as if to make amends.
The night winds softly serenade
Mark the beginning of the end,
the fall of night cannot be stayed.
(Retourne/29-Jun-07)
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Denied
The winds came out of the west one day,
And hurried the clouds before them;
And drove the shadows and mists away,
And over the mountains bore them.
And I wept, 'Oh, wind, blow into my mind,
Blow into my soul and heart,
And scatter the clouds that hang lile shrouds,
And make the shadows depart.'
The rain came out of th eleaden skies
And beat on the earth's cold bosom.
It said to the sleeping grass, 'Arise, '
And the young buds sprang in blossom.
And I wept in pain, 'Oh, blessed rain,
Beat into my heart to-day;
Thaw out the snows that are chilling it so,
Till it blossoms in hope, I pray.'
The sunshine fell on the bare-armed trees,
In a wonderful sheen of glory;
And the young leaves rustled and sang to the breeze,
And whispered a love-fraught story.
And 'Sun, oh, shine on this heart of mine,
And woo it to life, ' I cried;
But the wind, and sun, and rain, each one
The coveted boon denied
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Rain Drops
Here comes the grey clouds
rolling in,
Spreading rain all over the
town.
Rain drops help to moisten
the earth's beautiful green
grass.
Sidewalks once dusty are
washed and cleaned.
Rivers and lakes are given
plenty more water.
Fishes swim around happy
beneath the rain drops,
creating millions of ripples
upon the water.
Flowers and plants no longer
Thirst,
Even trees and bushes seem
to dance after a good drink
of water,
Animals get their fill of
water too.
Just Like a shower,
Rain drops clean and
cleanse everything,
Leaving the earth refreshed
and renewed.
After the storm has passed,
The sun shines spreading its
warmth.
Rain drops that are left behind
on Flowers, plants, trees and
grass,
It is like heaven for many insects
to fill their thirsty little
mouths.
Without clouds we would have no
rain drops,
Without rain drops everything would
never be the same.
poem by Derek James
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The Seeds of the Day.
The Moon...?
The loving eye of the Night!
The Sun...?
The majestic march of the Space.!
The Clouds..?
The dream clusters of the Skies!
The Winds..?
The friendly hands of the Nature!
The Water..?
The blood of the Greenery!
The Trees.?
The Earth's signature of victory!
The Birds..?
The Mind's chariot of flowers!
The Sky..?
The mighty shrinkers of the Macrocosms!
The Stars..?
The seeds of the Day sown
In the fields of the Night!
poem by Sundaram Chandrakalaadhar
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