Rain Poems | Poems That Perfectly Capture The Beauty Of Rains


    April Rain Song Poem by Langston Hughes

    Let the rain kiss you
    Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
    Let the rain sing you a lullaby
    The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
    The rain makes running pools in the gutter
    The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
    And I love the rain.



    Acquainted With The Night Poem by Robert Frost

    I have been one acquainted with the night.
    I have walked out in rain – and back in rain.
    I have outwalked the furthest city light.

    I have looked down the saddest city lane.
    I have passed by the watchman on his beat
    And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

    I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
    When far away an interrupted cry
    Came over houses from another street,

    But not to call me back or say good-bye;
    And further still at an unearthly height,
    One luminary clock against the sky

    Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
    I have been one acquainted with the night.



    Rain Poem by Edward Thomas

    Rain, midnight rain, nothing but the wild rain
    On this bleak hut, and solitude, and me
    Remembering again that I shall die
    And neither hear the rain nor give it thanks
    For washing me cleaner than I have been
    Since I was born into this solitude.
    Blessed are the dead that the rain rains upon:
    But here I pray that none whom once I loved
    Is dying to-night or lying still awake
    Solitary, listening to the rain,
    Either in pain or thus in sympathy
    Helpless among the living and the dead,
    Like a cold water among broken reeds,
    Myriads of broken reeds all still and stiff,
    Like me who have no love which this wild rain
    Has not dissolved except the love of death,
    If love it be towards what is perfect and
    Cannot, the tempest tells me, disappoint.



    As One Listens To The Rain Poem by Octavio Paz

    Listen to me as one listens to the rain,
    not attentive, not distracted,
    light footsteps, thin drizzle,
    water that is air, air that is time,
    the day is still leaving,
    the night has yet to arrive,
    figurations of mist
    at the turn of the corner,
    figurations of time
    at the bend in this pause,
    listen to me as one listens to the rain,
    without listening, hear what I say
    with eyes open inward, asleep
    with all five senses awake,
    it’s raining, light footsteps, a murmur of syllables,
    air and water, words with no weight:
    what we are and are,
    the days and years, this moment,
    weightless time and heavy sorrow,
    listen to me as one listens to the rain,
    wet asphalt is shining,
    steam rises and walks away,
    night unfolds and looks at me,
    you are you and your body of steam,
    you and your face of night,
    you and your hair, unhurried lightning,
    you cross the street and enter my forehead,
    footsteps of water across my eyes,
    listen to me as one listens to the rain,
    the asphalt’s shining, you cross the street,
    it is the mist, wandering in the night,
    it is the night, asleep in your bed,
    it is the surge of waves in your breath,
    your fingers of water dampen my forehead,
    your fingers of flame burn my eyes,
    your fingers of air open eyelids of time,
    a spring of visions and resurrections,
    listen to me as one listens to the rain,
    the years go by, the moments return,
    do you hear the footsteps in the next room?
    not here, not there: you hear them
    in another time that is now,
    listen to the footsteps of time,
    inventor of places with no weight, nowhere,
    listen to the rain running over the terrace,
    the night is now more night in the grove,
    lightning has nestled among the leaves,
    a restless garden adrift-go in,
    your shadow covers this page.



    Like The Touch Of Rain Poem by Edward Thomas

    Like the touch of rain she was
    On a man’s flesh and hair and eyes
    When the joy of walking thus
    Has taken him by surprise:

    With the love of the storm he burns,
    He sings, he laughs, well I know how,
    But forgets when he returns
    As I shall not forget her ‘Go now’.

    Those two words shut a door
    Between me and the blessed rain
    That was never shut before
    And will not open again.



    In Time Of Silver Rain Poem by Langston Hughes

    In time of silver rain
    The earth puts forth new life again,
    Green grasses grow
    And flowers lift their heads,
    And over all the plain
    The wonder spreads

    Of Life,
    Of Life,
    Of life!

    In time of silver rain
    The butterflies lift silken wings
    To catch a rainbow cry,
    And trees put forth new leaves to sing
    In joy beneath the sky
    As down the roadway
    Passing boys and girls
    Go singing, too,

    In time of silver rain When spring
    And life
    Are new.



    A Fallen Tree Poem by Howard The Motivational Poet Simon

    Who will dance with the wind now that you’re really gone?
    Who will catch the sun’s rays on the hot summer morn?

    Who will slow down the gust when it’s out of control?
    Who will dilute the air that’s toxic to my soul?

    Who will speak to the clouds about sending the rain?
    Who will shelter me from the storm and soothe my pain?

    Who will stand in the rain when others hide away?
    Who will provide a place for little birds to play?

    Who will catch my rain drops before they touch the ground?
    Who will keep luxuriant grass from turning brown?

    Who will present me a fruit for my morning dish?
    Who will nourish my eyes and satisfy my wish?

    Who will fix this huge hole in the soil of my heart?
    Who will give me comfort now that we are apart?



    The Rain Poem by William Henry Davies

    I hear leaves drinking rain;
    I hear rich leaves on top
    Giving the poor beneath
    Drop after drop;
    ‘Tis a sweet noise to hear
    These green leaves drinking near.

    And when the Sun comes out,
    After this Rain shall stop,
    A wondrous Light will fill
    Each dark, round drop;
    I hope the Sun shines bright;
    ‘Twill be a lovely sight.



    A Beautiful Day Poem by Francis Duggan

    In the blue sky just a few specks of gray
    In the evening of a beautiful day
    Though last night it rained and more rain on the way
    And that more rain is needed ‘twould be fair to say
    On a gum tree in the park the white backed magpie sing
    He sings all year round from the Summer to Spring
    But in late Winter and Spring he even sings at night
    So nice to hear him piping in the moonlight
    Spring it is with us and Summer is near
    And beautiful weather for the time of year
    Such beauty the poets and the artists inspire
    Of talking of Nature could one ever tire
    Her green of September Mother Nature wear
    And the perfumes of blossoms in the evening air.



    I Ask My Mother To Sing Poem by Li-Young Lee

    She begins, and my grandmother joins her.
    Mother and daughter sing like young girls.
    If my father were alive, he would play
    his accordion and sway like a boat.

    I’ve never been in Peking, or the Summer Palace,
    nor stood on the great Stone Boat to watch
    the rain begin on Kuen Ming Lake, the picnickers
    running away in the grass.

    But I love to hear it sung;
    how the waterlilies fill with rain until
    they overturn, spilling water into water,
    then rock back, and fill with more,

    Both women have begun to cry.
    But neither stops her song.