Rain Thunder Poems | Examples
These Rain Thunder poems are examples of Thunder poems about Rain. These are the best examples of Thunder Rain poems written by international poets.
Delightful pulse of lightening and thunder,
These elements, energy empowered,
Evergreen sages transmute old wonder
With silver rain magically showered.
Lightening ignites sparkle in my wide eyes.
Thunder fills my mind with stark remembrance.
Energetic discord strikes undisguised.
Away flows eclectic dissonance!
My praise goes to sunlight in the morning!
My heart rises up to gleeful rapture!
My spirit glides high, dancing and soaring,
In Cosmic realms forever uncaptured!
Roses awaken when Earth greets Sunrise,
But Rose Crystals are cleansed under moonlight!
the lightning flashing
the booming of the thunder
torrential downpour
When it rains it catches you completely off guard
No mercy when it thunders and comes down hard
Your mind and heart starts to go down memory lane
Thinking about accidents and love that went in vain
It's inconvenient and it slows normal activities down
But it provides clean air leaving a saturated ground
It's cold and could be deadly if not approached right
You need boots and heavy coats wrapped up tight
It's amazing how rain doesn't over flow the beach
But it can help bring the best sweetness to a peach
The rain is recycled water that accomplish so much
The rain gives the earth that squeaky clean touch
Although it's messy and cause many to complain
It brings so many benefits so you got to love the rain
Loud thunder,
coming from down under.
Rain coming down,
dancing in the rain like a clown,
in my ballgown.
The thunder rolls across the sky,
right after the flash of light
spreads across the horizon,
and it echoes…
echoes…
long and rumbling.
Its deep bass crashes
and shakes our very foundation.
The accompanying wind
blows menacingly,
and the falling rain becomes
a stinging downpour.
The once tiny droplets
now becoming a raging river,
washing away at the earth,
as it tries to sink into the soil.
But the storm has only just begun,
the flashes streak again,
and the thunder echoes…
echoes…
long and rumbling.
Lightening illuminating the sky
It’s beautiful yet gives a fright
Going to shut off my pc
Hoping it won’t shock me
Thundering a sound that booms
Effecting me jumping across room
Neon night with rain in tow
I wonder about the birds are they cold
Not one bird complains for
God takes care of them I’m sure
Weightlessness
My soul floats "along with the thunder,"
Saturated with impending rain,
Scattered back throughout the earth,
Lost among ancient ruins and countless seas.
I awaken, feeling hollowness within my quivering heart.
Frantically getting dressed,
The front door blows open—
Listening to its siren's call.
Piece by fragile piece, I must absorb it back into my mortal coil.
Hike through deadly nightshade-tangled forests,
Sleep amongst somber bones in graveyards of contrition,
Push through arid, combusting deserts,
Swim through the waters of paranoia—
Riptides of mentholated melancholy.
Watch as the embers of dawn settle into the ashes of dusk.
Build a golden pyre upon the jaded shale,
Lay my weary bones on the cleansing flames,
Until I rise anew from the ashes,
Never again to be confined within corroded psychosocial cages.
He brings awful thunder.
With all his disdain,
he booms and he blusters
with words most profane.
Along with the thunder -
like sparks on a plain -
comes lightning that he
simply cannot contain.
Those blazes of hatred
that she can’t constrain
come suddenly! What
made him so inhumane?
Like crops set on fire -
her heart is the grain
reducing to ashes.
His rage is her bane.
A love once held dear
she no more can feign.
He feels this, and strikes her
again and again.
Along with the thunder
come torrents of rain.
She drowns in the hurt
from which he won’t refrain.
He’s vowed she will die
if she severs the chain
that binds her to him
in unholy pain!
She tried once to flee,
but it was in vain.
Control that is thunder’s
he’ll always maintain.
So pray for all women
within thunder’s reign -
that freedom from it
once more they’ll regain.
There is not always rain
Along with the thunder
There is not always bite
Along with the bark
There is not always oxygen
When we go under
Not always a devil
Along with the dark
But we can always count on,
Along with the sorrow,
Laughter and joy joining this life
We can always count on,
Along with the blood shed,
Somewhere, a sharp wicked knife
We can always count on
These weapons of warfare
Harmless until held in our hands
We can always count on
Having our fair share
The wicked intent of mortal man
There will be a rainbow
Along with the thunder
Along with the lightning
The still waters of night
There will be such beauty
After all blows asunder
Along with the blindness
A great, glorious sight
In SoCal we don't get much rain,
occasionally, a pitter patter.
Along with drizzle, the windowpane
will get a little splatter.
I'm thinking, my dear, longtime friend,
that we consider something nice.
Don't be shocked as I recommend
thrilling weather to add some spice.
Would you like a thunderstorm,
if I could be inviting one?
Though I know it's not the norm,
it would be such exciting fun.
Like a multimedia show,
we could watch it from inside,
see the lightning flash and glow,
with thunder too, you by my side.
We'd pretend that we were scared.
and hug each other very tight,
with each and every lightning flare
and thunder blast that rocked the night.
If, between us, lightning lit a spark
between our wildly beating hearts,
along with thunder in the dark,
I'd hope that lovely trouble starts.
in the corner
of a blanched bungalow
sits a self-portrait:
loose bantu knots
the color of volcanic ash
her living nightmare
it was so much-
stampeding rain
wild winds
the icon of tropical thunder
with summer lightning
but the spite of ash
threatened the fete
smashed the sun
morning had broken
an island smeared
like God had face-palmed us
judgment for another place
another people
resting on your gables
the deadweight of ash
crashing queenie's
garden party
The Lord is come.
handling her Scriptures
squeezing the Holy Spirit
out of print
was she wholly confessed,
to be due robes of white
satin?
the sun reawakened,
ash washed away, passes
through her window
where she sits
cornered
Jazz notes ring out,
Teardrops beat down on my window dress.
Thunder has grown,
Thunder sings loudly and repeats until finito says.
Jazz notes ring out,
Inside,
Sunshine comes and goes instead,
Again and again.
Train tracks come along and eventually lead to a dead end,
So;
There are no take backs for what’s been said.
The rain taps my shoulders,
But somehow,
The Sun’s glare still beats against the back of my head.
Everyday is a little sun shower.
Maintenance lacks the gift of sudden death,
But there are no take backs once you’re under the bed.
A bizarre light show streaked across the sky.
The blinding lightning seemed to explode and electrify.
a
l
o
n
g
w
i
t
h
t
h
e
t
h
u
n
d
e
r
Vivid flashes of color to the clouds and everything under.
Striking blasts of illumination floodlit the night.
In total awe we eagerly witnessed this amazing sight.
Breaking the silence, more crashes of thunder came booming down.
Deafening the unsuspecting residence of our Sydney town.
A mind boggling spectacle was being played out.
Unable to hear ourselves think, we couldn't even shout.
A memorable night, never happened before, maybe never again.
Now along with the thunder, comes torrents of rain.
As the smiles in the cloud brighten,
a cloudburst of joy
sends gentle kisses on our rooftops,
pouring down clouded tears—
bottled-up emotions
to quench the thirsts of
humans, plants, animals... and phantoms.
The trees—
with feet rooted deep in earth—
stood humble as a worm.
The birds~
wings shyly folded to drain the rain—
could not dry-clean the leak in their nests.
Each drop of the rain
carried the smell of the earth,
as runoffs calmed the fury of a beast
threatening to devour the landscape—
along with the thunder.
Then twilight knocks—
the stream of tears halts mid-flow,
the music stops, as rain pulls up the curb;
dry rain clutches the biting wind...
to remind us: it's winter not summer.
With limp thunder
came silent still-born rain.
Sky broke,
clouds chose
to play apart today,
as the gray clad stand-ins
in blue duffel coats,
and snow white hoods
slunk away, to fade away,
like peals of bells
fade when echoes fail
to surface on
soft absorbent
compliant surfaces.
Black clouds like the thunder
missed the role-call.
Remained waiting
in the bleachers
for someone
to applaud,
to gee-up
the thunder with claps,
to raise a curtain call.
To giddy-up, giddy-up
the mighty steed Thunder,
to do its
clippety-clop, clippety-clop thing.
to do its
rumble, rattle and roll,
with steely shod and shiny
hooves on cobble stones.
Sometimes my dear steed Thunder,
led along on its reins and bridle,
enters the storm unmounted,
hushed to neigh forlorn,
in gray clouds,
in sky-blue skies.