Monsoon poems soaked in thoughts of green serenity and rain splashes. You are about to explore the most beautiful collection of monsoon poems that are original and redefine the season of newness and joy. Rejoice with these poems and understand the euphoria that they create enhancing the feel of the surroundings. No matter how many monsoon poems are written, there is always something more to write and no matter what is said, it is never enough. So drench in the beauty of monsoon season and let poetry do its magic.
When the head begin to reel under the burning sun When the tongue gets dried up in the scorching sun When the body spills sweat like floods due to heat of the Sun When the life become unbearable by the
Sprightly, oh! sprightly, the monsoon winds come, With promises of relief. Lightly, oh! lightly, the monsoon winds hum, The ordeal of belief. Hark me, oh! hark me, the monsoon winds roar, Sizzling to strike the earth. Darkly, oh! darkly, the
When first shower of monsoon Touched the emotions Of my innocent heart Its strings began to ring Drops of rain began to open The windows of my heart And with its tender touch Heart began to pour out Pearls of
(1) Clouds carry water drought and starvation missing A healthy monsoon (2) Farmers celebrate good crops bring prosperity monsoon being friendly (3) Peacock enjoys dance waterlogged everywhere a happy monsoon (4) Darkness in the sky rain droplets seduce climate monsoon
The wait is finally over Time to experience a complete makeover Amidst the thunder raindrops will be drippin’ Turning dusty leaves fresh and green ”I’m the sole power”, thought the summer heat Through tiny drops of water it faced defeat
Everytime I see the rain, I remember our joys, laughters, and tears, Our sadness, sorrows and pain. Our joy of laughing outside, While our sorrows crying inside. At the pouring rain, we laugh and cry, We run and run under
The weather is not letting me sleep in peace, Humidity seems monsoon’s closest niece. Last two days I am kept awake all night, And had to tolerate an absconded fight, With the humidity that prevails till now, I have to
A mighty July evening in my town…. Pouring rain, halogen lights and the ‘neon’, Yellow cabs bark outside my window, I stare…. Across the confused street and beyond – struggling umbrellas moving around, water puddles, paper boats, funny children and
A scholar of sixty monsoons with an amass knowledge in rarity He looks like a dry seed that has wings to fly every narrow spot to sprout Elevating every sluggish being to refresh the unrefined English What roles he enacts
Nature …God’s eternal artisan knows not the language of consistency… every second it… sketches …the grace of a flying seagull etches …the silence of the dark moon eclipsed by the cotton clouds paints ….the vibrancy of the morning sun on
You are so beautiful I can’t explain My love is ready to bear all pain Snowy-white in monsoon rain Glowing like light in my brain Your beauty at a glance Gives me a chance to romance When my heart gets
I love.. The early sounds of dawn. The twitter of birds and the sound of Silence too – as calm and blissful peace they bring. I love.. Fresh jasmine flowers A walk on wet green grass The crimson in the sky with birds
I’ll gladly share Dreamland with you always, Not to reserve one bit for others’ use, But make its days smolder and nights ablaze, And keep each of us as love’s recluse; We’ll shut the storm from blowing through each spring,
Like a tear, rolling down or the roaring, mighty, ocean wave, there rests love, sublime! Yes! the darkness, in the death or the fearless, of a myth, are all real, only underneath! About the sailor who tried or the failure,
In you, is the sunshine of the summer, That burns me to work harder and smile longer, Awakens me to challenge the world’s stubbornness ….. In you, is the dancing rain of the monsoon, Who takes me higher and rejuvenates
Stranded between the faces of a coin, Despair and lost around landslide jolt of the Highway, At the place where I shouldn’t be, With a hustle I grabbed a taxi from Siliguri, I was coming back home from an intense
Hold me tightly as a creeper holds a tree, and adores, Kiss me time and again like a wave touches sea shore. Be with me forever as moon and earth stay together, Love me unconditionally as God loves all creatures.
Seasons come, Seasons go, Past is forgotten, present is forgiven. Memories get aged, get ignored, Dreams are born, get matured And with every season new, A magic is unveiled. For the lengthier days, I wait for the winter to pass
There is a chilbil tree near our grandmother’s house, Full of weaver bird’s nest in monsoon season, God has created everything for a reason. The grassy strands are woven into cosy, Intricate nests for their spouse. The male baya painstakingly
It was simple, it was effortless All too transparent and ever so clear Life threw its bounties at him His hard road was strewn with maps to its wonders At every dead end he found a shovel At every crossroad
The two clouds, that love and have been loved hugged, embraced, and kissed with their lips, tightly closed one another; melting and boiling in their emotional heat, not to talk their feelings and to keep the flow of feel, unsurpassed.
My friend the Wind- is a lady who changes- Personas with every dress! You can hear her voice- go up and down with- every lapel and pleat! Chagrined about her coif- she turns into a dust devil. Ginned again with
Oh beloved! My gloomy eyes are searching for you. Through the vague fog and the dew. Beyond the touch of the ocean and the sky. Farther than the “Arctic tern” fly. Beyond the bounds of the snowy fields. Over and
That was the first beautiful rain in my life. I saw her in the drizzling rain. My heart pounded within my wet clothes. She never came again; Except the rain that comes regularly. That was the last beautiful rain in
It is full dark before 2:00 PM every day. temple bells ring in the streets for the dead the high chimes disturb the windless fall of ash. the planet had bellowed now it crouches still expecting another lash. we are
As a volcano, you erupt without notice, burning every stone down to its true state. As the third eye, you open suddenly, burning every mask down to its true face. You are not the angel who descends from heaven with
It was a photograph, as old as Their marriage, of both of them. His face radiating her fulsome bliss, Now eroded, tarnished and frayed At the edges, slowly, yet surely. Trying to tear him out of mind, She turned over
Between want and desire few crumbs of words will not satisfy. Facts and perception build a latticed smile between tears. Discreetly life catches a miasm, a fault to commit suicide. When will the exile end, of hope, a holy womb?
Hope and dreams Fill Schemes. Slippery as soap Both dreams and hope. My dreams have seen The things that might have been. The sweat it seems Is a part of my dreams. I sit by the streams With moonlight dreams.
I tend lovingly my husband, present savior, shareholder of my future pains of old age. But, he is in my place and I am in his role. I nourished warmly my innocent children my blessed off-springs of happy home, future
the way you walk the way you talk the way you comb your hair beautiful eyes as if a angel in disguise the touch of your hand makes me understand pitter patter of soft sandle feet whispers in the corridor
How I chose to live my life. I’m wired at birth, my personality in place. I’m sculpted as a youth my environment had its say. The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay. With all this in place
We live in a Society driven by Fear, Anger, and Greed. Fear of the unknown lurking among us. Fear of others’ distrust. Fear of what lies in our demise. Anger in our eyes for the person who leads us astray.