autumn-sunshine.net
In Buffalo, we’ve been inundated with heavy downpours, so this prompt is simple. Write a rain poem. They say April showers bring May flowers. My daughter is getting married at the end of May and will be needing the blooms. Combine any of the above to write your piece. Rain, April/May, Flowers, Beautiful Brides (Yes, I am biased! – Walt)
MARIE ELENA’S RAIN HAIKU:
Tap spring patter stepRaindrops on a tin roof stage
Gratis performance
© Copyright Marie Elena Good – 2013
RAIN ON THE TIN ROOF OF “OUR” CABIN IN THE HOCKING HILLS OF OHIO
(Thanks to Keith Good for the audio/video clip.)
WALT’S REIGNING POEM:
SEVENTH INNING DRENCH
Bleacher seats along the third base line,
which are fine when the sun shines.
But an April start has us darting for cover.
Baseball lovers with slickers and gloves
watching the grounds crew wrap the infield;
tarps unrolled and the old game takes another hit.
We didn’t sit for very long before the strong
downpour had begun. The only run was for the exit.
Rain check in tow; we’ll give it a go tomorrow.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
In keeping with the “Rain” theme, I’ve always thought this was pretty amazing:
POETIC BLOOMINGS 
Responses
Good ones from both of you. Good prompt to appropriate time of year, especially with so many storms marching across the land.
Today, it started as rain; thundered as it ought before becoming snow, rush on high winds from both south and north, ‘il finally it pushed away for a spate of dry skies. Now closing on that midnight hour, snow falls again to silence a world unsure of spring.’
Yes, good prompt! It’s been raining nonstop here. Rain is one of my favorite themes! 🙂
Clauds, your response is so poetic, I think it should count as poetry itself. Nothing unusual for you … not only is your heart poetic, but your brain speaks the language.
❤ Marie Elena
Yes, that’s just what I thought when I read it. And Marie, I love the free dance, and Walt, yes, I remember games like that!
Ah, you’re just flattering an old friend, Marie, but I’m glad that you liked it. I was almost finished with it when it dawned on me that it was lyrical. Now all I have to do is write for the prompt. I’m workin’ on it.
1. You’re not old.
2. No flattery – just honesty.
😉
Bless your heart. Love you all. Such a marvelous group of people here.
Absolutely!!
Claudsy, I honestly thought the passage from “Today” on was a prose poem. It’s lovely.
Oh, thank you, Jane. I have moments when that’s simply the writing that comes out, in comments, suggestions, and all sorts of places. I sometimes think that Muse shoves me aside, takes over, and then leaves me to ponder the ease with which she’s done her work.
I’m glad you liked it so much.
Hee, hee…
Clauds,
I thought the exact same thing…your paragraph swept up my mind as I read through it and I found myself feeling that ‘poetic quenching’ that I sense when refreshing words become a satisfying drink of joy.
Oh, my. Thank you so much, Seven. Such words of praise leave me breathless, without knowing how to respond, except with a “thank you.”
Maybe April is more crazy than cruel. Great poems from both of you guys.
Storm-taught
A streak of yellow sky laid under
blue-black clouds, distant thunder,
and high wind bodes a reckoning.
Whatever tender plant or flower
newly born but for an hour
faces a beating April sting.
Old women learn to read such skies
like three-day bruises, alibis
for mischief loosed across the earth.
They think to harbor things they love
from hail and downpours from above,
knowing the scars from one outburst
can wreck a garden’s trust in good.
Old women know it’s understood
that heaven will have its way below.
Whatever power we think we own
is blasted by skies hard as stone.
We’re humbled by what we can’t know.
Bullying clouds with angry fists
prove some old women optimists
searching for rainbows wrapped in blue.
Old women know that broken plants
survive the direst circumstance.
Storms break, and sun shines through.
Wow! This is amazing, Jane! I love your first stanza; so descriptive!
Oh, I do hope your ending comes true!
Nothing less than extraordinary quality from our Jane. Wow.
Marie Elena
Cool rhyming pattern, Jane, and this poem sure fits our spring this year. (I think I’ll call it “spring.”) The third stanza knocks my socks off.
Uh huh, and I love the last.
Oh, I really like this, Jane. It has great tone and reads like a song or something written long ago for reading aloud only. I can’t remember who put one like this out many years go on record, but that’s how I was hearing it as I read.
Thorough enjoyment. Thank you.
Wowser. Thanks, everybody. It has been a lively spring for storms and surprises, some downright scary colors of clouds. Here’s hoping we are all safe within our storms.
“…searching for rainbows wrapped in blue… Storms break, and sun shines through…” such Hope you capture, Jane…
Jane, you amaze me. What a treasure this is…delightful, visual, but under-girded with deep certainty…I can see and feel the strength of old women who lean and live firmly on what they know about the interplay of earth and sky, life and heaven.
This is one of my favorites of yours.
Thanks, Hen and Damon. This prompt really jazzed us all, didn’t it? Good to see you back, Damon. I miss your poetry when it’s not here.
I love the rhythm and flow of this poem, Jane. Great form.
Heaven Itself Weeps
I stand here,
In the midst of turmoil,
Chaos, suffering,
I stand here
In this clearing;
The sky is dark
And forbidding;
The very clouds are swollen
With unshed tears,
To match my own;
I stand here, eyes shut,
And lift my face to heaven,
And feel the liquid crystal fall,
And feel the cleansing diamonds
Drenching my hair,
Soaking into my pores,
Refreshing my soul;
I’m not afraid to let the tears fall now,
Heaven itself weeps
For the suffering in this world;
Why shouldn’t I?
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Gorgeous, all of you. You almost make me like getting wet.
Rain
It’s raining.
Never-going-to stop rain,
noisy-on-the-window-pane and
gurgling-down-the-drain rain.
Filling-all-the-tanks rain;
wet-me-to-the-bone rain,
can’t-hear-yourself-speak rain,
rattling-on-the-roof rain,
If this were a desert
I would be glad of rain:
any-kind-of-rain rain,
so I’m not grumbling,
merely stating the obvious.
Love the poem AND the attitude. 😉
Marie Elena
I’m partial to using hyphens that way, and I’m loving this poem!
I like it, Viv. I would never have thought of this form or subject. Sometimes I’m just too literal for my own good. Enjoyed it immensely.
Oh, I love reading this out loud. It makes me happy. Love it Viv!
Viv, I love your hyphenated rains. Wonderful poem.
!! 😀 !!
Viv,
taking every rain as it comes is good…and how wonderful to have them all. Loved the pitter patter of hyphens…great structure.
Superb, Erin!
Thanks, Iain! I’m so glad you liked it. 🙂
Erin, I would definately like to record your work 🙂
Are you serious? You would?
Absolutely! Details are in my post a bit further down 🙂
I just saw that. 🙂 Thanks, Iain, I’ll probably send you some.
As Iain says – superb. Yes, let the “rains” fall, and your heart flow.
Marie Elena
Thanks, Marie. I’m loving your comment. 🙂
Beautiful, Erin. Rain does have a healing power, too, doesn’t it?
It does; thank you, Kate. 🙂
Erin, you’ve done it again. Wonderful aspect to this poem and the question is pertinent as well. I really liked this.
Thank you so much, Clauds!! I am SO glad you like it!
🙂
Beautiful, Erin… just so Beautiful… !!
Thanks so much, Hen! 🙂
🙂 !!
Erin,
sweet sweet sweet….what a relinquishing surrender.
Thanks, Damon! Sometimes it feels good to just let it all out…
Congratulations on your daughter’s upcoming marriage, Walt! You must be so happy. 🙂
Yes… my congratulations on your daughter’s upcoming wedding, Walt… it must be very bittersweet…
Good one Mama Good!
Walt, you knew I’d like this one 🙂
I going to be cheeky and steal an inch of space for promotion!! i am still taking poems for my guest podcast series this summer, until April 30. 3-5 poems any topic, any form, any length – anything you’d like me to read to iain.poet@gmail.com Broadcasts will start end of June.
Don’t be shy!! Thanks 😀
Iain
No worries! Promoting our poets is what this site is all about. 🙂
Marie Elena
I’ll keep this in mind, Erin. Thank you. I hadn’t know about this before and I’m glad you said something here.
Sorry about that, Iain. I was reading in two different places at one time. When I reread the post, I realized what I’d done. Please forgive the inaccuracy of label.
Thank you Marie 🙂
No problem, Claudsy – I’d love to hear from you!
April, where are you?
An April shower starts a spring day
showers turn to sunshine
laughter and smiles
Friday’s joy in the blossom blessed avenues
school passes as it should
lightly, happily, welcoming the weekend
no signs of angst
neither pimples nor pouts
the 14 year old heart is full of love
the teenage mind is full of anticipation
and saying see ya later to friends
a whistling, carefree walk home begins…
…no showers now
dark clouds and thunder
lightning strikes the family hearts
terror and fear
uncontrollable tears
the walk was cut short
the whistle has been stifled
a van was sighted
a man was seen
confusion reigns
police officer’s words echoing
reverberating in non-comprehension
and all that can be said
all that can be thought
is sobbed repeatedly
April, where are you?
I thought long and hard about whether it was appropriate to post this – and in the end I decided it was imperative. 14 year old April Bosdell was apparently abducted in Mesa, Az. on Friday (?). I know nothing of the details – my words are just that. If anyone lives in Mesa or Az. and sees her or hears/knows anything the Mesa P.D. number is 480-644-2211. Here is a link to her photo.
I’m sorry if this not the right place for this or if perhaps I shouldn’t have poemed about it but I am in Spain & can do nothing else to help.
Thank you ❤
Iain
Goodness. I can’t imagine being family. I’d be worried out of my mind. Prayers for the quick recovery of this precious young soul.
Marie Elena
Oh my! That is terrible! My thoughts and prayers are definitely with her poor family. 😦
Iain, I can understand you sense of helplessness and desire to post your words here. Prayers and positive thoughts are indeed in order for situations as this. Thank you.
Oh, how terrifying, Iain… !! I send prayers… Hen
Prayers too for her rescue…and for hope and strength for this ordeal.
According to the lovely interwebs, she has been found and is at home. Yay!
Yes, according to her uncle’s Fb page – good news indeed…& now my words are just a poem! 🙂
What a relief!!
Sorry! The photo link is here: https://www.facebook.com/iain.d.kemp.5/posts/100117790189601?comment_id=543&offset=0&total_comments=3#!/photo.php?fbid=612208282140179&set=a.183527401674938.50490.100000530387856&type=1&theater
Marie – love the “tap dancing) poem and the audio/video. Who couldn’t love falling asleep to that tune?
Walt, clever poem. I laughed at “The only run was for the exit.”
We love the Hocking Hills, Debi, and try to get down there for a few days away at least once (twice if we can) per year. This rain welcomed us in spring of 2010.
Marie Elena
This also goes with today’s Sonnet prompt at Poetic Asides PAD prompt.
Spring Cleaning
Soft clean rain freshens up the air
birds are whistling without a care
throw the dusty windows wide
let the warm breeze inside
the temperatures rise like the hem-lines
grapes start growing on the vines
neck-lines fall in spite of showers
the clocks confuse, changing hours
love takes a young man’s fancy
a young girl’s heart gets romancey
Mother Nature is cleaning house
from the forest to the humble mouse
breathe deep of her blessed aroma
the winter, at last, is over
Iain
Beautiful, Iain!! I love the rhyme scheme and the lovely rhythm of this poem.
Yes… exactly what Erin said… !!
Good one, Iain. Total enjoyment.
I like “fancy” and “romancey”. An administrator at my school years ago referred to apring as “the sap’s rising” in his annual foolish speech about pda on campus. This poem has such nice detail and spirit.
Fun and fanciful piece, Iain!
Marie Elena
Thank you ladies, very kind 🙂
Great Iain….fun and full of vivid response. I’m getting my shorts out for my walk this afternoon!!!
Thanks. Have fun 🙂
Well done, Iain!
Gracias! 🙂
LESSONS FROM NATURE
If
First rains
Had stopped,
Somehow drifted
Back up the black sky
And hid their wet faces
In that white fluffy blanket
Stretched across the cloudy heavens,
From whom would we have learned to cry?
#
Lovely, Sal!
I gasped when I read the last line. Wonderful. Wow. Thanks.
Beautiful
Sweet, Sal. Love it.
A definite “wow,” Sal. Like Kate, I gasped at that last line. Wow.
Marie Elena
“…In that white fluffy blanket/Stretched across the cloudy heavens,…” Your beautiful blanket has reached here too…
Beautiful Sal….yes, that last line is a heart line. We avoid sorrow at the cost of empathy.
Love that last line, Sal.
Quenched
(in Tanka form)
Hairline cracks widen
Hot sun relentlessly beats
Awaiting relief
Relief delayed by the day
Prolonging the pain of want
Clouds form overhead
Gathering close together
Anticipation
Rises as the cracked earth smiles
Brown grass rises from the dead
The cool of the air
A signal of what’s to come
Thirst quenching rain
Sent from a Heavenly God
To revitalize His earth
Excellent work here. Love it.
Beautiful.
Marie Elena
Wonderful!
“…The cool of the air…” Lovely line…
Could taste the relief on my dry tongue, EJ.
Yesterday I mowed
Cats and dogs falling today
Time for a movie
Ha! Here, have some popcorn.
I’ll join you, Kate. Milk Duds or JuJubees?
Oo! Oo! Me too! Me too!
Marie Elena
Come on over, MEG.
Count me in too! I’ll bring chocolate!
The more the merrier, Erin.
!! 🙂
Ha! Love this! Yes, rainy days were made for blanket-couch-coffee-chocolate-in-home-cinema!
!!! 😀
I wrote this several years ago, but it applies again this year, sadly–all the buds and baby leaves on our crab apples and forsythia and lilacs were frozen, dead and brown. Sigh…
Rain… Rain
Relentlessly the icy rain swoops down.
The sodden earth, refusing, cries “No more!
Have pity on your prey. I weep; I drown.
Please show me now your mercy, I implore.”
New blossoms break; brave daffodils are bent,
Their sunny faces pressed into the mud.
Sweet pansies shredded, cheerful petals rent;
The apple trees now mourn each frozen bud.
But rain beats wings against the wintry gale
And stretches talons, needle-sharp and cruel.
We find no refuge from her keening wail
Nor have we any respite from her rule
‘Til sun, her master, calls and she obeys.
Now hooded, tamed, she broods on stormy days.
Caressing, soft, the gentle rain creeps down,
Now purring figure eights around our feet
And nuzzling cheeks. The shadblow dons her gown
While patient tulips wait, their petals neat.
Narcissi bow, so graceful, heads now weighed
By raindrops beading there like short-lived pearls,
And grasses wear a shine on ev’ry blade.
The glad earth drinks; the peony unfurls,
And rain comes dancing, watching flowers preen.
A playful tickle from her whiskers, then
She’s hiding and emerging, seen, unseen,
And running catlike over field and fen,
She’s gone. The sun emerges, but with cause
To be suspicious: kittens have their claws!
Lovely, Kate. I like.
Man, Katie. This is like an impressionist painting, so layered and alive.
Jane captured my feeling, far more expressively than I could have managed myself. And your cadence and rhyme? Absolute perfection, as always. You amaze me, KatiePie.
Marie Elena
… yesss… That’s It, Jane… !!
Thanks, y’all!
I think I remember this from before, Kate. It is soooo beautiful! I love the contrast between the two stanzas. Lovely!
Kate,
Pure personification….what perfect portraits here. And I love that last realization by Sun…’kittens have their claws.’
But here’s a little new one, for children:
April
Rain slithers
like a lizard
down the windowpane.
Shiny tracks
slide forth and back—
How I love the rain!
That’s a good one, Kate. Kids would love it. I know I do.
I really like that. I love the way “slithers” feels coming out of my mouth. I, too love the rain.
Send it in to a mag, Kate. It’s a keeper!!
Marie Elena
Thanks!
Cute!
My grandson will Love this one… come to think about it… my granddaughters will probably Love it more 😀 !!
Great! Love this too.
Here you go, folks, a memory from the past.
The Rain Dance
Waves of heat rose from parched earth,
Shimmering, undulating with each breath
Of air’s movement, relentless throughout day’s
Light and moon’s dark.
In or out, children complained to mother, who
Tired and became cranky from listening to laments,
Until that day came at summer’s height to bring
Relief for all who had need.
Lightning flashed and thunder roared from skies
Leaden and looming, proclaimed Thor’s presence
And surcease for those who’d persevered through
Scorching weeks and melting reserve.
Storm hit with hammer blows of drops sized to
Hurt those beneath the rain of ice balls before
Its drenching reprieve pummeled grasses too
Brittle to withstand nourishment.
Ah, but children fear not droplets that wet
The skin and cool the blood, that puddles for
Splashing in grass and washes away discontent
As easily as soap does stains.
Joyous abandon, leaping to squeals, sound
Within torrents of liquid sunshine—a rain dance.
Wonderful memory, Claudsy. I always wanted to go out and dance in the rain when I was a child.
It was all we could to to breathe without getting our lungs full of water, it was raining that hard. But, we managed, while my mother came out onto the porch and watched us at play. It was icy cold, but we didn’t care. The cloudburst lasted about ten minutes, as we jumped and ran in delight. I was 10 at the time.
I bet your mother would be so very touched by your poem, Clauds. Beautifully penned.
Marie Elena
She probably would have. If she hadn’t been cooking dinner at the time, she probably would have joined us.
This is so sweet, Claudsy! I love those last two lines! 🙂
Thanks, Erin. They do sort bring it all home, don’t they. That’s how it felt, too.
They certainly do!
🙂
Oh, Delightful, Clauds!!! 😀 !!
Thanks, Hen. Glad you liked it.
!! 🙂
Done that dance before…in spite of lightning and thunder. You expressed the joy, the celebration, very well Clauds.
Thank you, Seven. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Spring rain
Polka dots the
Sidewalk in splotches of
Dark grey. I get a piece of chalk
To play connect the dots and see what the
Rain has to say. But the sun came
Out and dried up all the
splotches of grey
Spring rain.
As usual, great word choices!
Thanks Sal
An absolute delight, Debi!
Marie Elena
Very sweet, Debi!
Oh, HOW FUN is That!!!
Thanks you guys. I appreciate your comments.
Debi,
this is a treasure of fun!
Love the polka dots!
Rainsong
The cats go running from the room
when first they hear the plop of rain,
accompanied with loud varoom
of thunder echoing again.
They like the sunroom filled with light,
sun beams caressing belly fur,
but tin roofs magnify their fright
at sounds too big for meow or purr.
I let them flee; I meditate
on sheets of rain swept by the wind,
on treetops nodding, skies of slate,
on flowers only rain can send.
I like the timpani, the clash
of heaven’s cymbals, forks of fire;
I like the subtle terror’s flash
across the smallness of desire.
Some storms are bluster, posturers—
more sound than rain, more talk than do.
I like the soakers, drenchers, pure
sweet puddle-making storms, don’t you?
Hear hear! Love it, Jane!
Marie Elena
Oh definitely!! And I also love the rhythm of this lovely poem!
I love the fourth stanza – “I like the timpani, the clash
of heaven’s cymbals, forks of fire” beautiful poem.
Love this Jane!!! (at the first sound of rain, my puppies both whipped their heads around and stared at me {making me laugh at their sweet innocence} and I could only coo: “… You’re Okay…” 🙂
Oh Jane,
again…so rich. I relish such weather too, but like your cats, my dogs are afraid. They tremble and press against me, fearful of all that bluster, the growling of randomly angry skies.
Enjoying all the verses on rain, especially after a parched summer. I took a step toward the wedding/beautiful bride side of the prompt.
Walt – Congratulations and best of all wishes on your daughter’s wedding.
Canon D
By David De Jong
It was just the first rehearsal,
A wedding, elegant, simple.
My little girl that graced my knee,
I had to practice setting free.
She was the oldest of three girls,
Sweet voices and silken, blond curls.
I always knew this day would come,
How she would find that special one.
He spoke to me, asked my blessing,
All the while, his love confessing.
I gave my father’s wave of grace.
To let this young man take my place.
All these thoughts, scrambling my brain,
Trying to focus, church glass pane.
We take our places, wait our queues,
Looking across, old wooden pews.
Music started, she held my arm,
We took our steps, a night so warm.
The isle was short, the walk was long,
My heart raced every note of song.
I glanced, saw a tear pass her cheek,
Each step taken my knees grew weak.
I dropped a tear, she seen it fall,
As our eyes spoke, they could not stall.
The more we walked, the more we cried,
And we couldn’t stop, though we tried.
Reaching the pulpit and the groom,
Our tears were heard, back of the room.
When asked; “Who gives this bride away?”
My salted tongue no words could say.
After a bit, composure came,
My lips quivered, giving her name.
Many years, since that day was spent,
Swiftly gone, but with merriment.
We laugh, cherish, this memory,
A tear still comes – with Canon D.
Beautiful. My own youngest had a Christmas time wedding, and walked down the aisle to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Christmas Canon, which is set to Canon in D. Like you, I can’t hear it without tearing up.
Marie Elena
Beautiful, Meg…
And Christmas Canon is Pachabel’s Canon which my daughter will honor me to escort her on her day! W
Beautiful, Walt, I think that I will invite myself to her special day… Hugs to you all!! 🙂 !!
Connections, connections, connections …
🙂
me
This is so sweet, David! I imagine that you definitely would cherish this memory. 🙂
Oh, so tender and Lovely, David!!
Oh David,
been there too. What an experience, no one knows till they have to do it.
The Wedding
At morn, aglow with rosy blush-ablaze,
appears the dainty bride; a powdered fey.
She carries fairy dewdrop storms; a maze
that soars o’er dancing flowers blissful play.
Her sparkling gown sends light to kiss the face
of groom who grows beneath the shadows low.
He’ll bloom a brilliant hue; a purple grace;
as lifted is the veil where he will glow.
The moon has slipped away beyond the night
as early beams entrance the wedding guests;
they turn their heads to greet the waltzing light
that warms the periwinkle’s silken vest.
Triumphant march of morn has wedded day;
A golden coronet adorns her way.
Another gorgeous sonnet. I particularly admire the final couplet, Jacqueline.
Marie Elena
Beautiful, Jacqueline!
Thanks, Erin and ME.
O.M.Gee… THIS IS GORGEOUS, magical, whimsical…!!
Lovely Jacqueline,
this stanza gets me…
“The moon has slipped away beyond the night
as early beams entrance the wedding guests;
they turn their heads to greet the waltzing light
that warms the periwinkle’s silken vest.”
You do these so well, Jacqueline.
Clear Spring Day, Tho’ Raining On Sunday
My
puppies
have gone…their
new home awaits
them.
(written 29 Mar 2013)
For Andy
And when you go
taking with you
your little squeaky
toys
your loud little bark,
my heart…
It is then that
the rain will start…
❤
❤ ! ❤ !! Thank you, k.
Oh, that has to be hard and sweet at the same time. Your poems brings those emotion through.
Both poems speak your heart, Hen. What more can we ask of poetry?
Marie Elena
Oh, Meg, thank you!!
Thank you, Debi, this is the most difficult thing about fostering, I do believe… they are Loved and missed… !!
What sweet and tender poems. I know this feeling.
Oh, thank you, so much, Jane… yes, you then understand the pain and the sweetness that is left behind…
Aw, how sad for you, Hen. 😦 I bet you miss them very much.
I do… they brought such Joy, Life and Love into my little world, and tho’ brief, those moments will stay right here inside of my Heart forever… and isn’t that all we could ever wish for in Life anyway…; thank you, Erin!!
Hen,
nothing breaks the heart like giving a puppy’s love away.
….yes, 7… and that includes All Puppy Love… Thank you…
Spring Dance
A hidden wooded valley in the east,
A child awaits the first sweet signs of spring.
Some yellow buttercups and, not the least,
Pale purple violets that raindrops bring.
Ten thousand fairies tap dance on the roof.
Sweet scented breeze breathes life and makes her sing.
The rain pours down its unrelenting proof
That spring is here with all life raindrops bring.
The dancing rain becomes her childhood friend.
It greets her while she sits on her porch swing.
And when the lightning and thunder storm end,
She skips about in puddles raindrops bring.
But in the mountain desert brisk winds blow,
Spring showers she now meets are likely snow.
Connie, I don’t recall ever reading a sonnet of yours. LOVELY!!!
Marie Elena
Thanks, Marie. I’ve written several. “The Boat” placed in Robert’s sonnet challenge awhile back.
NICE!!
Marie
Told you already, but this is a magical poem,Connie. Love the repeated rhyme.
Thanks, Jane 🙂
Lovely! I can see the little fairies! 😉
… sooo magically lovely… 🙂 !!
Beautiful sonnet, Connie,
lovely innocence, though temporal and brief.
Beautiful, Connie!
Muddy Water
By David De Jong
Rain drops, gum drops, pollywog pools,
Children’s wishes walking to school.
Puddles, splashes, new galoshes,
Oh the fun, of muddy washes!
Pick up a stick, pick up a ball,
The swampy yard, beckons its call.
Please, oh please! Oh dear mother please!
I’m begging, down here on my knees!
Don’t tell father, I wore his coat,
Jumping over, my castle moat.
I used a pole, to jump the creek
But landed flat, upon my cheek
I fear my pain and mud smeared stance,
Will get a lick across my pants.
I got the thought, list’ning to dad,
How he poled canals, as a lad.
Daddy talks too much 🙂 But a little mud never hurt a boy – I like this David.
I like it too! So endearing!
Marie Elena
It’s a mud-luscious poem, David. Kids are washable 😉
How adorable! I have a little brother who would love to do that! 🙂
OH SO DELIGHTFULLY CHARMING!!! 😀 !!
David,
fun is the main ingredient in mud.
As my wife, a primary teacher for 30+ years used to tell her kids,
‘God made dirt–dirt don’t hurt–eat it up and let it go to work!’
Forecast
“A poet is someone who stands outside in the rain hoping to be struck by lightning.” ~James Dickey
Brilliant ideas, like flashes of light
hide in recesses of the poet’s brain.
With a pen in hand, we scribble, we write,
as thoughts, words and phrases stream down like rain.
I am a cistern. I collect droplets
and translate them into a collection
of prose and poetry which are portraits:
they’re drawn as a watery reflection,
but unlike Narcissus, I do not drown
as I stare at the beauty before me.
I wait for lightning, I wait for rain. Brown
mud and blue lakes appear protectively.
I am a poet, so I’ll stand outside
and wait for the rain ‘til it has replied.
###
RJ, I absolutely love this. Perfect title, love the quote (WHERE DO YOU FIND THESE???), and your poem is of your usual superb quality.
Marie Elena
Ditto! Where DO you find those?
Beautiful, beautiful poem.
lovely poem…waiting for that lightning.
“… and I’m thirsty anyway… so Bring On the Rain…” !!! — Jodee Mesinna
Gorgeous poem!!!
FLASH! Spreitstttzzzzzz!!! BOOM, RUMble–rumble-rrrrumm-bllle:
…
and then, RJ writes it down…
LOVED this RJ.
RJ, I always click on the name and go to the blog whenever possible, and I found myself commenting on something from 2012 that had nothing to do with rain!! Grapheme? And I’m thinking, “What the !#@??” Ha ha, a grapheme.
This poem complements the quote perfectly. I’m a rain-stander-inner myself. Peace, hon. Amy
Thanks to all of you for your kinds words. However, the *prompts* are the things which send me in whatever direction my poems are supposed to take. I hear a word and suddenly ideas (like lightning) come to me. So Marie and Walt – thanks for the inspiration. And, yeah Amy, here’s to being a rain-stander-inner. ♥
You created a scene I can star in. Beautiful work, RJ
[…] for Poetic Asides April Poem-A-Day Challenge #14: Sonnet, and for Poetic Bloomings Prompt #103: April Showers. Posted for day 43 in 100 Days of Spring – […]
DEATH THEN LIFE
Dormant earth;
wrapped in a pall of
death; few signs
of life, and
even fewer reasons to
hope…til fresh rain falls.
The seeds that
died to self, take on
new purpose.
Hope is found
after the storm, in the new
life that emerges.
Perhaps the best living
comes after dying.
2013-04-14
P. Wanken
Lovely and true!
Beautifully spoken!!
“Perhaps the best living comes after dying.” So thoughts gather there. Lovely
Grasping the Rebirth afterward all ways heartens one to thrive! This was as expressive as all get out! W
Paula,
you’ve nailed the truth again by framing this image for us in your words. Thanks!
Commented on your blog, Paula! Nice to read you again. Amy
It Rained That Day
It rained that day,
I’m pretty sure;
April was almost over,
May was fast approaching,
And it rained that day.
I wanted to run away,
To crawl into a hole
And never come out;
To wash away the grief
With salt water: rain and tears.
My heart was breaking;
I couldn’t bear
To see the tears in my dad’s eyes
As he told me;
Yes, it rained that day.
But was it rain?
Or was the whole earth gray and blurred
From my countless tears?
Or did it really rain?
I’ll never know…
I can’t recall,
The memories blurred…
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Sorry for the morbid poetry on this prompt, guys. April’s not a good month for me…
Oh, Erin… I feel for your heartache… Hugs, Hen
Thanks, Hen. I appreciate the hugs, and you! 🙂
🙂
Erin,
I really don’t want to know…as a dad…what this sadness was. I can only guess and it wrenches my heart. But how well said, and how well shared.
Keep on sharing.
Thank you, Damon. It’s one of my worst, yet most vivid, memories. It was the only time I have ever seen my dad cry. I hated it…
Peace to you, Erin. You reached back and brought it forth with real courage. Amy
Thank you, Amy. I always have to say or write a thing that’s worrying or saddening me; I can’t keep it inside me. Thank you so much for your comment. Peace to you as well. 🙂
going through tunnel
we cannot see Devil’s Slide-
also no rain now
/ / /
the sky is clear blue-
off the ocean a strong wind-
rain is on the way
/ / /
mist blown from the sea
by the constant onshore winds-
rain on my windshield
Ohh… your last one… Beautiful!!
Love a drive in the weather, Mr. W.
These are all lovely! 🙂
Love these, Richard! So good to have you join us!
Marie Elena
Meg, I Loved your clip! Walt, yours brought to mind, this morning, my SF Giants’ Win last night; tho’ I fell asleep at the tie, and awoke to the win… bummer….
Ha! Pity you missed the win, but at least your team is actually winning. 😉 I’m not exactly too pleased with my Seattle Mariners at the moment…
… Hee, hee… yeah… there will be days (seasons) like that, my friend… but we fans have to go with the flow of both wins and losses… :D!!
[…] to the “April Showers” prompt at Poetic […]
Winter’s Long Siege
April rain
gently brings forth
blooming May flowers, green grass
and puts a smile on my face to rival the bright light of the sunshine –
but all I have is
snow.
Oh Michelle, I hope you get rain and flowers very soon! :)’s to you.
Michelle, I shiver as I feel your pain in Wisconsin. It may reach 50 tomorrow, though… ! Amy
Brrr…
Again, great poems. What a treasure to have access to all of these minds and hearts.
Here’s my effort. (We poured out about 3 1/2 inches (over 1 1/2 days) just last week. Yard is soppin’ wet. But I’ll not complain.)
————–
Rain Gauge
We all measure
our troubles
by inch and
by flood,
by our tears,
by our sweat,
by each drop of blood.
So let’s measure
our joys by
each color
and hue,
every bud
and bright petal,
green frond and leaf, too.
Let’s count up all
the flowers
that dance with
the breeze,
and add notes
from bird songs to
the smiles of the bees.
So the total
and sum of
our days will
be fine,
come gray day-long sad rains,
or beam-bright days of shine.
Lovely, Damon!! I love the rhyme scheme and your choice of words. Beautiful!
Yes, wonderful thoughts! And it delights me that you have seen the smiles of bees.
True and lovely, Damon. I especially like the second stanza, although I don’t do it as often as I should. Beauty in simplicity might even include a deluge or two for perspective, hm? Nice work.
You truly captured the spirit of the prompt with this. The smiles of bees… lovely. Amy
That third stanza is just…. Delightful 🙂 !!
How It Rains
Fine mist through sunshine,
clouds darken.
sky’s stomach
rumbles, invokes thunder claps.
Loud applause rains down.
Lovely, Sara!!
Thanks, Erin!
The clapping and “loud applause,” fine combination! Also the sky’s stomach rumbling made me chuckle. Amy
Thanks, Amy!
OH, Perfect description!! 🙂 !!
Thanks, Hen!
Liked this too, Sarah! Great imagery.
Thanks, Seven!
Love this shadorma, especially that great last line.
GREEN LEAVES
A drip and a drop
the rain goes plop,
splashing atop of
green leaves.
A drip and a drop
the rain doesn’t stop,
green leaves give
thanks as it receives.
What a vivid picture this paints in my mind! The green and the crystal clear of the rain…beautiful. Lovely poem, Benjamin!
Thanks! Didn’t think others would be posting this time of night! 🙂
Well it’s only 9:50 in my neck o’ the woods. 😉
Sweetly done, Benjamin. Love the onomatopoeia! Amy
Thanks Amy! Not sure what a onomatopoeia is I’ll have to look it up.
I love it too! It’s when you use certain words that actually sound like what they say; such as plop and drop. 🙂
O great thanks. Had no idea. hee hee.
That’s fine. The only reason I know is cause we had a poetry class in school this year and I had to study that! 😉
Simple and Beautiful… I Love that!!
I love the conversations of nature in poems….great work, Benjamin.
Thanks SevenAcre
I Would Truly Be Happy…
When I think about it,
I really am so blessed;
Raindrops may depress,
And even sicken me at times;
But then I think
Of all those people
Who never, or hardly ever,
Witness this miracle,
The miracle of rain,
Of tears from heaven,
Who never feel the joy,
And the sorrow,
Of heaven’s tears falling
On the green, green earth.
Then I thank God for His blessings,
And I pray, or rather wish,
That I could send some rain
Their way…
…if only I could send the tears
Of the skies to those people,
I would truly be happy…
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Erin, at first this seems like a simple wish… but the situation is indeed so complicated, fraught with human greed and our inability to share resources with those in true need… while we blithely fill our pools. Thanks for food for thought. Amy
Yes, I quite agree. And you’re welcome, Amy. 🙂
This is so sweet. Love the progression in this. You started with raindrops may depress. Then you realized that others would enjoy the miracle of tears of heaven sending them to others for their enjoyment! Splendid and well done. Keeping enjoying those tears!
Thank you so much, Benjamin! I really do wish there was a way to send some their way. But for now, I will enjoy these precious tears. 🙂
…yes…
Erin, you do send joys–in the tears of heaven–to others with your words. Once written, they’re there forever…and you can’t imagine now where these poems you’ve penned will go.
I am often moved, startled, awed by something someone wrote sometime somewhere, who never knew they’d be sharing and giving to me through their words.
This is the wonder of our shared writing. It’s written, it’s shared, and by virtue of the winds and clouds of all our lives, given.
Thank you so much, Damon!! You do write so wonderfully, even in the comments you leave to people. I expected no less from you, you are such a kind person. Thanks again. 🙂
[…] was written hours before Boston. Hope you can enjoy it despite what’s going on. This is for Poetic Bloomings’ prompt, Rain. Peace, […]
As it says in the preamble on my blog, this was written hours before we watched the tragedy in Boston unfold. For full comments, please visit my blog, http://sharplittlepencil.com/2013/04/15/half-a-rainstorm-is-better-than-none-bermuda/
Here’s the poem part. A fond memory.
Half a Rainstorm is Better Than None (Bermuda, 1987)
Favorite haunt in Hamilton.
A day-off treat, strong coffee
dense shortbread, and
small talk with a friend.
Sky darkens, pavement is
wet across the way.
We emerge, fully
expecting immersion.
Yet we’re on the “sunny side of the street.”
Rain spatters cobblestones in
a literal line drawn down the lane.
A meteorological DMZ.
Island storms are that specific.
I pass my hand into the storm and
pull it out again; palm to fingers, drenched.
It dries in the sun as we ponder miracles.
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
I still remember that day. I had never seen the “edge of the storm,” nor did I know the concept existed. I’m not even sure Riley believes me! (“Whacky mom stories,” like meeting Bob Dylan and realizing he has zero charisma… or that my right ankle is thick because of an unfortunate intersection of tequila, Quaaludes, and hopscotch.)
This is an amazing memory, and you’ve painted it so well!
Rain spatters cobblestones, Yes! Love the imagery here.
It first sounds objective then becomes subjective with ” I pass my hand into the storm and
pull it out again; palm to fingers, drenched.
It dries in the sun as we ponder miracles.”
🙂
Wow… I have never thought about “the edge of the storm”… I am going to Love thinking about that!! (And thank you, again, Amy, for the smile re: “Whacky mom stories”! 🙂 !!
Amy,
what a wonder! I’ve seen edges, but never that precise. How amazing. Loved your memory of that moment.
RAIN ON ME
Dear Lord,
Rain on me,
and cause the growth
that you seek.
Overcome
thorn, thistle
the hidden rocks
within.
Soften me,
make my heart
the good earth
of fertile ground.
That others
would enjoy the
rich harvest of
gold, silver, and precious stone.
Amen! What a wonderful prayer, Benjamin!
Thanks 🙂
Lovely, Ben…
Beautiful plea, Ben.
(A Haiku)
The tears on her cheeks
Vanish like dew on the grass
In the bright Son’s rays.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
OOhhh…
I think we’re on a roll here.
Love the Son’s rays.
I love them too! We are on a roll, but I am unable to sleep right now. Just got all four wisdom teeth pulled today and the pain is keeping me awake. I figured I might as well occupy myself somehow. 😉
Keep going! Hope your pain eases. Your words still speak.
I hope so too! Thanks, Benjamin.
Ow… great way to pass the time…!
Yeah, and after a long night with little sleep, I’ll probably be posting more this morning. *sigh* I guess that out of evil cometh good. 😉
… always, they say… 🙂 !
Fantastic, Erin.
Thanks, Damon.
O’ CUMULUS
O’ Cumulus
we beg,
don’t be shy
nor withhold
your rain.
Be bold
let loose,
don’t hold back
pour out,
fully release your pain.
Yes! Let loose! Good one, Ben!
!!!
That’s an amazing picture of that troubled cumulus, Ben. Loved that.
(Another Haiku ;))
Rain cleanses and heals,
Refreshing blessing from God;
Please don’t let it stop!
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Cute. Good use of the words.
Aww, thanks, Ben! Warm smiles to you this morning. 🙂
Yes it does!! 🙂
😀
Erin, you are a haiku master.
Aww, thanks! Marie helped me a lot with my haikus when I first started. She really is a treasure.
RAINDROP
He finally jumps,
sifts
whizzes
sizzles through
the air.
Where he lands,
stops
drops
splashes
he really doesn’t care.
Aww! So sweet!
Yes!
A drop from a cloud, like a child from a diving board. Full abandon.
!! YES :D!!
UNDER OATH
Dear heavens,
We incite you to love
and good works under oath.
We covet your tears
throughout the years
Come now,
embark on stunted growth.
last one! have to go to sleep! Can’t stop! Help!
!! 🙂
Morning Henrietta!
… :D, Good morning, Benjamin… !!
Haha! Good one, Ben! All of your poems from last night are so good! It’s a joy to read them. 🙂
A late night writer…
I can see your muse with a big caffeine-heavy mug!
🙂
Three Years Without Rain
A dark cloud in the sky,
A breathless crowd awaiting,
Hushed; finally, after three years,
The heavens were open,
Rain poured down from above,
Healing the parched earth
With its gentle kiss.
The prophet Elijah had foretold
Three years without rain
For the wickedness of Israel.
And on that fateful day
At Mt. Carmel, he showed the people
Who is the real God,
The living God;
And Ahab’s priests,
The priests of Baal,
Their fanatical praying was put to nothing,
Their idol broke, their own lives taken;
Three years without rain,
It came down to this:
Elijah prayed, God opened heaven:
A dark cloud over the sea,
And gentle, healing rain.
There is no god like our God,
How wonderful are His works!
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
This Bible story always struck me as one of the most powerful stories in the Old Testament. It shows so clearly how mighty and wonderful our God is, and how every other god is powerless before Him.
One of my favorites. Look, a small cloud….!!!
Yup! 😀
Erin, you’re producing some wonderful poems witht his prompt. Amazing quality and volume!
Thanks so much, Jane! I’m trying to keep my mind off the pain from my wisdom teeth being pulled out. So, while I’m lying here on the couch, I am writing furiously. 🙂
Beautifully told…
City Rain
All day rain
Beginning in darkness
Without a sunrise only darkness turning
Into a dull gray.
By the dimmed streetlights
Fine mist of drizzle
People with heads bowed down
Into umbrellas, hoodies,
Hurrying through – don’t get wet-
Puddles growing
By street curbs, parking lots
Wet car keys,. Wet cars
Windshield wipers hurry, hurry
Brush away the droplets
We need to see
Leaves uncurling
Lawns refreshing
Already green is creeping in
Where before our world was brown
Now everything is refreshed,
Trash, garbage floating away
Streets and sidewalks clean again
By this day of rain.
Lovely, descriptive poem! I especially like your last stanza.
Marian,
yes…the cleansing quality of heaven’s deluge.
We treasure it here in southeast Arkansas because it washes the thick yellow pine pollen away…for a time. It takes several washings to turn our yellow world back to green.
… oh those cleansing properties… 🙂 !!
I know city rain so well, and you describe it perfectly.
Cold Dust and Crystal
Like cold dust, on flowers below them they’re falling,
And sprink’ling the petals with droplets of crystal;
Like teardrops from heaven, the blossoms they’re drenching,
And faces upturned in glad praise to their Maker.
In silver and mist, the green grass they’re bedecking;
Drenching and drowning, then they’re washing anew,
Torrents of tiny, clear droplets of purity,
Falling from grey clouds held fast in storm sky,
Splishing and splashing and quietly pattering,
Delving a pattern in smooth, placid waters,
Dancing and rippling, silvery shimmering,
Lost in the storm of a fast-flowing river.
© Copyright Erin Kay Hope – 2013
Keep waxing! Enjoyed the scenery here.
Thanks, Ben! Can’t wait to see what you’ve got for the next prompt. 🙂
Sensual capture…
RAIN, IT’S RAINING
Walking through walls of silver beads strung on Spring-time
Leaving kitten footprints light as the ones left in angel-dust
The scent in the air – what is that anyhow – freesia? lilac?
Or is it just the fresh-washed earth smell that’s forgotten
Over a long winter, every spring, it’s so new, a re-acquaintanceship
Has to take place – Mother Nature wakes all her sleepy denizens
Wafts heather, flowers from heaven, violets – forget-me-nots
Underneath windows, noses if she can steal close enough …
Plumps clouds like pillows, forcing new freshets of downpours
To fall in sheets like filaments of finest thread-count bedding
All the world’s washed clean and Mother, she’s blessed, she is.
What a sweet poem, Sharon! I love your first line! 🙂
Oh, I Loved: “…Leaving kitten footprints light as the ones left in angel-dust…” 🙂 !!
I’m hoping to get back here and comment but fear that won’t be happening …much as I’m loving this Pulitzer project, it’s kicking the sh** out of me…did I hear a rumour that Sir Walter is walking a bride down the aisle this weekend? Or has that already happened? I hope there will be photos…
“no song of spring”
I cannot find
the rhythm of this rain,
it is no song of spring
it hisses off of
these dried leaves
collected by the house
in a corner
which refuses to give up on fall
but these leaves
have none of the suppleness
of the newly fallen,
they are frail and brittle
and collapse under this expectation
returning, finally
to the soil
beginning anew
it is no song of spring
which refuses to give up on fall
beginning anew
Jerry, I love the first stanza in this. “I cannot find the rhythm of this rain…”
… I hope the music will soon begin for you…
CHEV!! Lovely to see you here in our neck of the woods!
Marie Elena
Walt and Marie, two winners here!
I will try again – I can not seem to cut and paste!
RAIN
The
rain-drops
slowly build
sending rivulets
down the window pane
washing away the grim
accumulated over time
striping away uncertainties
clearing the way for the rainbow’s dream
vibrating, pulsating unseen
below simmering thresholds
seeking to capture anew
sly, elusive muse
needed to feed
a poet’s
beating
heart.
🙂 Marie, please chuck the first two attempts. Thanks
Done deal, Marjory. 😉
Marie Elena
Thanks 🙂
Wonderful, M!!