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Savio Fonseca Aug 2023
Count the Raindrops,
falling in a Rainstorm.
Count the Leaves,
that are there on a Tree.
Count the Stars,
Up there in Heaven.
Count the Fishes,
Swimming out at Sea.
Take the Happiness,
of the Universe.
and Add them all,
to a Love that never Ends.
Her Heart,
will taste only Laughter
and Her Eyes,
will hold U until the End.
Nicole Apr 2021
ink-black clouds stalking
dampened rain puddles splatter
flashing light, deep sounds
Viona Lauren Mar 2021
tiny droplets
fall from the tips
of your long lashes
onto your cheeks
filled with
umpteen sadness
and your lips of pink,
made of melancholic jelly
with ruptures of love.
you've always related to rainstorms,
perpetually pouring,
giving your everything, night and day,
your tenderness & your support,
but all you always got
was pain & hatred and anxiety
and myriad complaints.
"why does it rain so much?"
"why won't you stop drizzling? i'm tired'
"go away rain, don't come again"
and it just breaks something inside of you.
your heart's already broken
and now your soul probably is too.

©️Written by Viona Lauren 2021
idk what i think of this
Kai May 2020
wind screams at the door
thunder crashes down hollow halls
hide under the bed
Prompt 22: Imagine Weather Indoors. My brain immediately goes to an abusive home of screaming matches like thunderstorms.
Lyner Mar 2020
Pit, pat, pitter-tat
The rain drums on my roof
Thunder, a distant drum
Booms, slams, crashes
A distant cacophony
Accompanied by birdsong
Splish-splash, titter, laugh
Children play in puddles
As innocent as a puppy in my lap
The storm passes
And the sun blazes again
Kitt Dec 2019
The rain came down,
and it keeps coming down,
so nourishing to the parched earth
yet so gloomy and low. It fits the mood.
An event that must happen, for the world to survive
But that, in the moment, only feels like a dreary moodsetter on a blustery day.
It isn’t too dark out. Despite the rain coming down in torrents, it’s still bright.
As I drive along the highway I see that rays of
sunshine are poking out from behind the clouds, and I think that,
somewhere along the distance, from the right vantage, where the brilliant sun rays
hit the storm droplets at just the right angle, there might be a rainbow
somewhere.
Just too far gone down the road for me to see it.
Henry Bladon Sep 2019
first makes me
imagine a poem
that talks about
an ink-stained sky
and brooding clouds
and chilling air,
all of which
can be taken as
ominous signs of
impending doom;  
but that can be bad
so instead lie still
and listen to the
comforting melody
the rainstorm plays on
my old tin roof
Mythical May 2019
Rain clouds flooding the sky,
Mother Nature ready to cry,
A storm of unhappiness unleashed.

All her of her feelings multiply,
Piled all into one,
Months of sorrow catching up..

While everyone is shunning her out,
We're not hearing her wishes,
She's just pouring over our heads..

Sung a song of untold,
Tears rolling down the trees,
Flowers smells slowly decrease..

How can we let this happen?
She had given us air to breathe,
A gift to explore living things..

All crumbling down into flames,
Burning and turning into ashes,
A graveyard of beautiful tombs..

Mother Nature isn't happy,
Killing all things with her power,
Hurricanes are stronger than ever,
Maybe she's just PMSing?
I wanted to model my life after a rainstorm:

To embody the excitement and freshness and screaming vitality
of a torrential rain on a hot summer day
To show off my clouds and shout out with thunder
My worries and sorrows, my failures and fears.
To laugh and cry and run and shriek
With windstorms and hailstorms and post-summer sleet.

But most of all,
I wanted to flash through people's lives like lightning
So, so bright and unexpected and beautiful and alive
That they held their breath and scanned the skies
For just one more crackle of energy and excitement
That makes them question their accepted lives.

If nothing else, I'll be petrichor
The soft, sweet reminder of new life to come.
That puts a smile on people's faces
As they, for once, stop, and breathe,
And remember that
They, too,
Are
Alive.
Colm Oct 2018
Granola pattering between my teeth.

Rain crunching beneath my feet.

Wait a minute...

Was that what it ought to be?
Quietly mind you. Not the rain. Me.
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