Poetry on Rain by Cynthia Thornton Herrera The Society May 6, 2013 Poetry Final Drip Sun’s broke through, it’s blinding. The crickets fade away, adjourn. The glowing, steaming mist falters; Creeps down to ground to burn. Silhouetted branches Well with tears of resignation As morning licks away With fiery-tongued elation. The clouds have weaned away. Orphaned droplets slide leaf to leaf; Surrender, failing grace, Their existence so pure and brief. Some commandeer acorns And they all go down together Rapping sharply on tin roof Punctuating forever. Time’s Deluge I know where all the time went. It traced plumed eagle’s shadow drift. It sped aloof blanched sandy shores; Collided ‘gainst jagged cliff. There its margin gathers still; Kisses the dawn, refutes the dusk. There it purges water sift; Brutal bruised as ivory rust. I know where all the time goes. Dispenses everywhere extrude. Wings encourage, gullies swell; Doves melancholy comfort brood. Here its margin gathers still At boundaries doors their hinges ache. Time expounds its own demur; Boulders mumble, mountains quake. Sound of Rain How does one describe The sound of falling rain? How would one decide; What fortune could one gain? To weave with wond’rous words, To go through so much pain. Blasted roof shingles When subjected strength proves Where water mingles Like galloping on hooves, Ripping at the window screens Like a pack of wolves. Poured from sloshy cup; Regurgitate the skies That which was drank up; Illuminate replies Infuriate the heavens, Rinse away for miles. Cynthia Thornton Herrera is an adult education teacher and poet living in Spring, Texas. She has been writing poetry since age 12. Having grown up on a farm in Nebraska, nature supplied her inspiration to write, and life experiences have continued to provide a relentless source of subjects. Her work has appeared in: National Poetry Press Young America Sings series, American Poetry Association anthologies, Beginnings, Promise, Inkling, Star Burst, and the Phi Theta Kappa Nota Bene anthology. Related Post ‘Darkness’ and Other Poetry by Christine Lawson Darkness No longer did they see the need For things called books they used to read. Music—no longer symphonies, But simple tunes composed with e... Tell the world:FacebookTwitterTumblrPinterestRedditLinkedInEmail Leave a Reply Cancel Reply Your email address will not be published.CommentName* Email* Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.