Paris Rain
Cold, wet and windy day in Paris
A bench by a window in a warm coffee shop
Slight cold wind comes in through a crack in the window frame
Raindrops trail on the pane
Low hum of traffic and car horns liven the outside world
Whistles in the distance
Pedestrians in the light rain
Office workers, tourists, brave the weather
No where to go, no where to be, nothing to do
Except enjoy the warmth
And the view of the street
And Paris, on a cold wet winter day.
poem by J.D McNair
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Related quotes
Paris in Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Cold Wind Waits
though the frost is gone, the
cold wind waits.
the robin sings while the
cold wind waits.
a gentle breeze
now blows the wheat,
but a threat of rain
will change to sleet.
the summer slips and the
cold wind waits.
though the warm wind blows, the
cold wind waits.
the traffic crawls while the
cold wind waits.
it's dark too early,
winter too soon,
light of the sun
will change to moon.
the weather turns and the
cold wind waits.
(2011-Bolingbrook, IL)
poem by Mark Money
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Its Winter again
It’s not yet snow but I can smell it
Sounds of rubbing hands and bodies freezing
The sip of hot coffee and closed window panes
Looks like its winter again
Snow and fog and the feeling of cold
Snow and fog and celebrations unfold
The late sunlight brings thousands of smiles
The early evenings and the silent miles and miles
The train whistles and only whistles
The windows are closed with passengers and shivers
The touch of wool and the warmth at home
And outside it’s a snowstorm
Its time to celebrate these cold evenings
Entire world celebrates, as there are many things winter brings
The coziness of bed
The unmatched taste of hot bread
Those pink and white colours everywhere
And the walk through that cold air
Winter is here to make all of us smile
Winter is here to stay for a little while
Winter is here for celebrations
Winter is here for hot chocolate temptations
poem by Amita Singh
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Along the streets of Paris
As twilight diminishes the day’s hope,
The street lights beep alarm,
The crowds throng the rushing pavements,
Cold winds chilling their strawberry cheeks,
The traffic horns pierce the strained ears,
Pedestrians brush past,
Their cigars smoking up desires,
The church bells cry reassurance,
As I run through the streets of Paris,
Alone,
Aching for the pillow,
Yet dreading,
A night of broken dreams.
The coldest of the cold?
A greedy person’s Cold ambition
Or could it be Cold windy nights
The pureness of Cold clear water
Or the alien aspect of Cold neon lights
The careless Cold shoulder
The unfeeling Cold heart
The curse of Cold nature
Cold hands held apart
Could it be Cold feet
Could it be cold fears
Could it be cold weather
Or icy cold ears
Even above cold blood…
Even above… being apart
My choice of all, above, Would be
the unfeeling…of a cold, cold heart
poem by David Whalen
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Rain Keeps Fallin
I remember the night so well.
The rain was fallin but I just couldnt tell,
If it was you that was callin to my love-sick brain.
But the rain kept fallin on my window pane.
Out of the night the thunder rang in my ear.
I cant fight the feelin, lord, that brings forth my fears.
I wish it was over, lord, please stop the rain.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
The rain thats fallin on my window pane.
Every night the rains on time, I can feel it in this heart of mine.
But I dont know what to do.
Well, I guess I could go back home, cause you know back home is where I belong.
But it just aint home without you.
And I dont know what to do, baby.
Well, I guess Im a looser but it just dont seem fair.
I lost all my life so tell me, why should I care?
The night that you left me is the night that it came.
And the rains still fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said the rain.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
You know the rain ...
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
... keeps right on fallin.
The rain keeps fallin on my window pane.
I said, the rain keeps fallin ...
song performed by by Grand Funk Railroad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Weather Be Good Weather Be Bad
as i look out the window
i see the sun rise
before my very eyes
i feel its warmth & power upon my face
as i look out the window
i see the rain fall
before my very eyes
i feel its cool calming effect on my soul
as i look out the window
i see the snow fall
before my very eyes
i feel that cold bitterness on my skin
as i look out the window
i see the trees sway
before my very eyes
i feel the love it offers surround me
as i look out the window
i relise that
weather be good, weather be bad
i'm alive
poem by Faye Burford
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I Will Be Grateful For This Day
I will be grateful for this day that God gave me
That is full of sunshine during this winter day that is cold at the same Time
But I wished that God would take the cold back with him and leave me with the warm weather
But maybe it will be too hot when he brings the warm weather
So I will have to live with the cold weather for now
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Homeland from Cardboard
In the end of street in 'cardboard
Sleeps Paris and Helen is cold
In his body has instead of sheet
Newspaper but the cold bites
In the end of street their horns dirty reasons
Strike electricity the eyes they break
In the end of street in night the door
In anymore lot you will sell me
Homeless be but Star in the news
In 'cardboard if it should I live
without sound I can speak
For anymore homeland you speak to me
After also caste you have sold him
After in Tria the light you have extinguished
For this homeland to me you will speak
In the end of street in night the door
The crowd thickens extinguishes without electricity
Their house a all cardboard
Strike the horns their soul be cold
Cop.2011 Sakis athanasiadis
poem by sakis athanasiadis Grecce
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Those winter sundays
a single's sunday
bachelor's sunday
lonely as the sun
bright, warm
yet cold as ever
echoes of deserted morn park
reverberated
in lonely hearts
winter's sunday
a bachelor's sunday
the lonely walk
between the skyscrapers
that hid the sun
making the day drowsier
more melancholy
the heart, slayed
bobs up and down
in an ocean of wish
too big for this little frame
the mind tries cheering itself up
with verses shuttled between
different corners of the world
the muse's only Sunday warmth
that cup of coffee in hand
and pen in hand
painting the world
in his own colours, fashion
in his attempt to rise
above the waves of Sunday's blue
mozart, bach, beethoven,
trail the bright Sunday rays
sending a wave of joy
in this self sustaining survival
inspired by:
Those Winter Sundays
Sundays too my father got up early
And put his clothes on in the blueback cold,
then with cracked hands that ached
from labor in the weekday weather made
banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him.
I'd wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking.
When the rooms were warm, he'd call,
and slowly I would rise and dress,
fearing the chronic angers of that house,
Speaking indifferently to him,
who had driven out the cold
and polished my good shoes as well.
What did I know, what did I know
of love's austere and lonely offices?
Robert Hayden
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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On Hearing A White Backed Magpie Singing In The Rain
The white backed magpie singing and skies so gloomy gray
And magpie does sound happy on such a gloomy day
But why is magpie happy what reason for his joy
All in the depths of Winter this morning in July? .
The rain come down in torrents and dark clouds o'er the hill
And freshening winds blow colder the breath of winter chill
The raindrops freely running adown the window pane
And still the magpie singing and whistling in the rain.
Why is the magpie singing what reason for his cheer
On this cold day in winter the wettest of the year?
The wettest day of Winter the wind blow cold and strong
And merry magpie singing his distinct happy song.
The white backed magpie piping his happy melody
On wettest day in Winter on rain soaked blackwood tree
And I ponder the question the simple question why?
The magpie feel so happy on wet day in July.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Shivery
This cold cold weather, bids me not
to energetic spree
I stand and shiver, wondering how
To warm that cold cold me
If only I could make a start
It would not be bad it seems.
But somehow I just linger on
And do it, in my dreams.
My ideas are brilliant
They are plain to see
But ho, this cold cold weather
Does waste my time for me.
Life Is As Simple And Enjoyable As Sipping Coffee Early Morning And Enjoying The Scenery Of A Rustic Place
alright,
we simplify this
it is early morning
they have not awakened yet
the house is very peaceful
the windows are closed still
and the doors too
alright
stand, walk towards the window
open all of them
let the cold air come in
then walk towards the door
unlock it
and open it too and then
let the cold air
come in
you want coffee?
go to the kitchen
take a spoon a cup and saucer and
take sugar and coffee and
hot water
you know what to do, right?
feel at home
this is your home
now take your time
sit on a chair
face the trees
stir your coffee
feel it hot
and then sip
enjoy, savor the scenery of
this rustic place
feel the wind on your cheeks
take the warm side of the cup
alright,
is not life as simple as this?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Window
I was staring out the window
The whole time he was talking to me
It was a filthy pane of glass
I couldn't get a clear view
As he went on and on
It wasn't the outside world I could see
Just the filthy pane that I was looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I was never focused on just one thing
My eyes got fixed when my mind got soft
It may looked like I'm concentrated on a very clear view
But I'm as good as asleep
I bet you didn't know
It takes a lot of it away if you do
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
Because the fact in fact
Whatevers in front of me is covering my view
So I can't see what I'm seeing in fact
I only see what I'm looking through
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
So again I've done the right thing
I was never worried about that
The answer's always been in clear view
But even when the window's clean
I still can't see for the fact
That when it's clean it's so clear
I cant tell what I'm looking through
So I had to break the window
It just had to be
Better that I break the window
Than him or her or me
I had to break the window
It just had to be it was in my way
Better that I break the window
Then forget what I had to say
I had to break the window
It was in my way
Better that I break a window
Then forget what I had to say
Or miss what I should see
Or breaking him or her or me
song performed by by Fiona Apple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Paris With You
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.
poem by James Fenton
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Wuthering Heights
Out on the wiley, windy moors
Wed roll and fall in green.
You had a temper like my jealousy:
Too hot, too greedy.
How could you leave me,
When I needed to possess you?
I hated you. I loved you, too.
Bad dreams in the night.
They told me I was going to lose the fight,
Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering
Wuthering heights.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh, it gets dark! it gets lonely,
On the other side from you.
I pine a lot. I find the lot
Falls through without you.
Im coming back, love.
Cruel heathcliff, my one dream,
My only master.
Too long I roam in the night.
Im coming back to his side, to put it right.
Im coming home to wuthering, wuthering,
Wuthering heights,
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Ooh! let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
Ooh! let me have it.
Let me grab your soul away.
You know its me--cathy!
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
Let me in-a-your window.
Heathcliff, its me--cathy.
Come home. Im so cold!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Had A Window Full Of Rain
closed down rumbling beating hard
Glass arrayed cold warmth untouched
Sorrowful frigid sterile surface glide in
Unopened crumbling crackling water sobs
And then a child a child came in
Looked at the window rumbling beating loud
It said ‘It looks like magic
Those racing drops and this rhythm blast
Restless trembling leaking down
Wow it’s a window full of steam
I think I will draw it a smile
I think I will draw it a heart
I think I’ll make it
A happy window pane
A laughing window pane.’
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Wasp
When the honey, fruit and flowery tablecloth were whisked from the table in one sweep, it flew off with a start. Entangled in the suffocating smoke of the curtains, it buzzed for a long time. At last it reached the window. It beat its weakening body repeatedly against the cold, solid air of the pane. In the last flutter of its wings drowsed the faith that the body’s unrest can awaken a wind carrying us to longed-for worlds.
You who stood under the window of your beloved, who saw your happiness in a shop window—do you know how to take away the sting of this death?
poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Cold Winter
Ive seen you, cold winter,
I know you, cold winter.
You showed me no mercy,
Still I shant forget[? ] the warning.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I know you, cold winter,
You broke my heart, cold winter.
I missed you, warm summer,
Never thought Id see you, cold summer.
Youll never know how it feels to be loved.
I thank you, cold winter,
Never leave that game[? ] to lifes story.
You healed me, cold winter,
You taught me how to face the morning.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rain On The Window
(hicks / clarke / nash)
When I hear pitter-patter the rain on the window
Reminds of her
When I hear pitter-patter the rain on the window
It was raining hard
The trees looked bare the night I met her
She was wet her hands were cold
The wind blew through her hair
Though Id known her quite a long time
We were just good friends
So it didnt seem so strange
Inviting her back home
We sat by the fire
The flames brought out something in her
Melting all the cold
Projecting warmth I never knew
As the rain beat on my window
Did she understand
That in the glow of dying embers
Everything was planned
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
Pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter pitter-patter
We made love later on that night
While the rain beat on my window
I cant forget the things that happened
While the rain beat down on my window
Next time I saw her
I knew she didnt want to know me
If I disappointed her
I think she should have told me
Cant she understand
I only tried to be a man
She made me feel so ashamed
Of everything I am
When I hear pitter-patter
The rain on the window
Reminds of her
song performed by by Hollies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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