Rain is a wonderful theme for a poem. Rain can represent the tears of mother nature or a nourishing gift from the sky. Water is malleable and bends itself to our needs. We can talk about April showers, getting drenched in the rain, or walking through a gust of drizzle. The possibilities for potential metaphors is endless here. We’ve chosen not to inundate you with metered rhymes, but instead to flood our page with free verse. These poems about the rain are entirely original, and you will find them only on Shadow of Iris.
Rain Maker, a poem
by Isabel Tolling
Far out from the village
in a small grove
she would work her magic,
calling down the rain
that time and again
had saved the village
during long hot dry summers.
Then one day, by chance,
she was caught working her magic.
In fear, they immediately cast her out.
She disappeared into the wilderness
and not unexpectedly without rain
the following year
the village perished.
Pitter Patter, a poem
by Emma Blue
It’s a season of continuous rain—
pitter patter on my head.
The alarm clock doesn’t go off.
I bump my head on the door.
I cut myself shaving.
I spill a little toothpaste
on my pink blouse,
and I’ve run out of milk.
When I get into my car
I’m low on gas,
and on my way to work
the wet freeway turns into
a vast parking lot
of people going no where,
and the rain keeps falling—
pitter patter
pitter patter.
Images of the Rain, a poem
by the Eclectic Minstrel
1
A moveless cloud
on a hot day
when the air is still
and expectant.
The rain is an invited guest
that never arrives.
2
Tiny flowers shiver in the wind
and little insects scatter
as the first drop of rain crashes
on to the small leaves
of a thirsty four leaf clover.
3
Soft breezes blow
over a small patch of raspberries
where a small inchworm holds tight
to a quivering leaf,
and the rain keeps falling
one drop at a time.
4
Waters flows to the storm drain
as soft rain continues to fall—
Danger lurks in murky depths
and bubbles up as sweet words
that lure you to the edge.
5
Well before the windows all closed
and the rain began to fall
I heard their angry words
break around me like cracking glass,
a high pitched scream
shattering each bone in me—
now, all I hear is the rain.
6
The rain falls steadily
and the water drips down cement steps
that lie outside the window.
I’ve found a warm seat
from which to watch the washout.
7
I imagine that somewhere
there are soldiers
all worn out and in tattered clothes.
They sit down in the rain
and take out a can of spam.
They share its contents
as each of them stares through the rain
into the wet, wavering underbrush—
wary of the enemy.
8
The street is wet with leftover rain
and the street lights
shine against its blackness.
A man stands on a corner,
alone, smoking a cigarette
and waiting for nothing.
9
The next day,
I try to take a short cut,
and I end up in an alley way
where yesterday’s rain
is puddled up—
there’s a push cart
that’s seen better days,
and it blocks my way—
I have to push through
old soggy boxes.
The best thing one can do when it’s raining is to let it rain.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
We hope you enjoyed our rainy day poems. Remember next time there is a cloudburst not to let it get you down. Instead, pull out your poetry notebook and let your creative floodgates open while you pour out a deluge of words! Don’t forget to float over to the sidebar and follow Shadow of Iris. We don’t want you to miss our next drippy poem!