Lying on my bed,
Listening to the rain,
I think of past memories,
Of both joy and pain.
My head pressed gently
Against pillows soft
Relives moments
I remember not of’t.
Water pounds on the door,
Supported by roaring gales,
I lie listening to their screams,
Till their music grows stale.
Raindrops dance on winds
Whose melodies I admire;
Singing sweet metaphors,
I write verses,inspired.
Lightning illuminates
My brother’s cheerful face,
Whose smile, from memory
Can ne’er be effaced.
There’s not one part
Of the storm that remains,
That isn’t a song I listen to*
Amidst the pouring rain.
– The Forgers of Fantasy
For more such works, you can refer The Forgers of Fantasy (art.blog)
HI! I’m Prabhu S, a fourteen year old writer from India. I love reading science, and I also like listening to music and playing the piano. Writing’s my passion, and it will continue to be!
If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog and Instagram account to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com
What a beautiful poem, nurture your talent.
Thank you very much! 🙂
Great piece! I love this: I lie listening to their screams,
Till their music grows stale
It put me right there!
Thank you very much!
Thanks a lot!
Woww !! I was just thinking of writing about snow…and I came across this poem…beautifully penned about rain..🥰♥️
Thank you very much!