This page, WRITE TO A PICTURE, is an invitation to our regular writers and to our visitors. Send an original poem, a story, or your recollections. Share your thoughts and experiences with those who like to READ what others write. Send to me at LaraOct7@aol.com.

 Early 'Write To A Picture' pages are archived. The links are here:

Beach Scene "1"
Old Train Station "2"
The Carousel "3"
The Fifties "4"
Summer Picnic "5"
From The Heart "6"
Cloudy Moon "7"
September Morn "8"
Passing The Time "9"
Apples "10"
Rain "11"


 


Your Title

By Your Name (LaraOct7@aol.com)





Your text goes here.

Rain! Rain and umbrellas. Rain and puddles. Rain, a comfy chair, and a good book. You're invited to compose a poem or a story, or jot down a few memories. You might see yourself in the picture and tell us where you are and what you're doing. Or you might be an observer who feels sorry for anyone caught in the rain. Fact or fiction, humorous or serious. We look forward to your entry.








 


Rain: Then and Now

By Jeanie (Mingo184@aol.com)





RAIN , RAIN GO AWAY
LITTLE JEANIE WANTS TO PLAY
SPLASHING IN THE RAIN PUDDLES
ON A WARM, RAINY DAY
WAS MY WAY TO PLAY


IN THE WATER JUST JUMPING AROUND
MAKING ALL KINDS OF WONDERFUL SOUNDS
YELLING AND SCREAMING AND LAUGHING, TOO
RAIN WAS SO MUCH FUN, WASN'T IT FOR YOU?



WHEN I GREW OLDER AND WENT TO WORK FOR AN AIRLINE AT JFK AIRPORT IN NEW YORK, I STILL REMEMBER THE RAIN STORMS THERE. WE HAD A HUGE WINDOW IN THE OFFICE THAT OVERLOOKED THE RAMP AND JAMAICA BAY. WHEN THUNDERSTORMS WOULD HIT, LIGHTNING WOULD FLASH. I LOVED TO LOOK OUT THE WINDOW AND WATCH SHARDS OF LIGHTNING SCRATCH THE SKY. IT WAS ELECTRIC, TRUE, BUT SO BEAUTIFUL TO SEE..AT LEAST FOR ME. I WAS NEVER AFRAID OF THUNDERSTORMS. WE MADE A GAME OUT OF IT WHEN WE WERE LITTLE..THUNDER WAS THE SAINTS MOVING THE FURNITURE AROUND IN HEAVEN, OR THE ANGELS WERE BOWLING. LIGHTNING WAS SOMEBODY IN HEAVEN PLAYING WITH THE LIGHT SWITCH. I LOVED, AND STILL LOVE, THE SOUND OF RAIN OUTSIDE MY WINDOW. IT'S SO SOOTHING TO MY EAR.








 


Rain

By Amy (Fabulousfilly@aol.com)





colorful umbrellas,shared by two
soft raindrops falling, temperatures too
will it turn into snow
will the wind start to blow
will we cuddle under here
will we hold each other near


will we smell the freshest air
after the rain oh do we dare
sniff that air so fresh and clean
see how the puddles glean.









 


Rain, Rain, Go Away

By Brier (Brierhillbarbara@aol.com)





It is raining again today
Just like yesterday.
I must go out to the drug store.
Fix my hair and dress.


Get an umbrella..
It isn't hanging where I keep it
It's not in the closet
My coat is there.


The kids all say they haven't seen my umbrella
They don't use umbrellas
I have a big black one.
And a regular red one.


I can't find even the beige one that folds all up.
Well I'll wear my rain coat
and I have a plastic head thingy.
I found all the umbrellas, in the car









 


October Rain

By susi (Texaswishr@aol.com)





Leaves on the ground, unraked
black outlines left on the drive
unrelenting rain, grey skies
October leaves no room to survive


color fades away on the trees
even the bright red and yellow turns dull
my moods and thoughts match their flatness
the sea is calm, no screeling of a gull


my footprints wash away behind me
as I make my lonely way down the beach
like days that have passed without recognition
with goals unattainable, out of reach


rain, everfalling, sliding down the pane
weighs down the leaves as they fall to the ground
never to dry, never to blow away
never to rustle, never to make a sound


city streets alive with colored umbrellas
take the place of my water-soaked lawn
for a moment brighten my tear-streaked face
with a glimpse of tomorrow's golden dawn









 


Rain

By Tom (tomWYO@aol.com)





“What a lovely fall, I just love these warm days and cool nights,” she said to her companion as they raked leaves and watched Boo and Hoo romp about in the leaves.

“Yes, fall is a neat time of year but we are so dry, so dry,” he replied as he wanted to throw those two little dogs in the garbage; but they were hers and he just knew she put the dogs above him. He raked the same pile up for the fourth time, “Come on Boo, go chase Hoo somewhere else or I will never get done,” he said as he stopped and looked up at the sky.

“Clouding up,” she said as she headed for the house calling the two dogs. Now she would spend an hour or so brushing them to get any signs of leaves or dirt off.

“Gosh it seems like just a minute ago I looked up and there was not one cloud in the sky and now it is becoming ominous,” he said as he quickly knelt down and filled his big leaf bag. He had taken one of those large blue plastic tarps and sewn two sides making it into a large bag. This way he could fill it with leaves and drag the bag up to the compost pile.

He got one bag filled and emptied and had the second bag nearly full when he felt a few drops strike his neck. Hurrying he dragged the bag to the compost pile, dumped it and headed for the shed when the pitter patter of rain on the dry leaves began. He put his stuff away and went into the house where she was still brushing. It was now a slow steady drizzle.

After lunch he got his rain coat and umbrella, “I have to go get the license plates for the truck and I need a printer cartridge,” he announced.

“Well go ahead, Boo and Hoo might get wet, go ahead,” she said in that tone that meant, “Don’t you dare go.”

“Be back in a while,” he said as he got into his truck and headed into town. Quickly he got the license plates and his printer cartridge. For some reason he drove over to the park where he parked, got out, raised his umbrella and lit his pipe. Slowly he walked around the lake, smoking his pipe and watching the rain on the water as the dead leaves all shined as if they had been polished. He became oblivious to the world as he just slowly walked along thinking and enjoying the nice warm fall rain.

“May I join you,” a sweet voice asked as he came around next to the parking lot.

He looked up, “Oh hi, what are you doing out in the rain?” He knew she was like him and enjoyed walking and even more so walking in the rain when there was no wind.

She smiled, “Thought I would keep you company,” she replied as she stepped in beside him and her longish legs matched his stride. They laughed as they watched the ducks and geese swimming around as if it were not raining.

“Join me under mine, there is room for both of us,” he said. She pulled her umbrella down and moved under his. They touched.

She looked up at him as she slid her arm around his, “I really enjoy this, just idle conversation as the pitter patter of the rain on the umbrella mutes the other noises.” They walked along and his arm went around her waist drawing her closer as neither said anything; they just enjoyed the company. All at once she stopped, “Oh my lord, I have an appointment, I must go,” she said.

“I wish you didn’t,” he said as they stopped looked at each other with that expression. “Wish we could walk together every day,” he said.

She squeezed his arm, “I wish we could be together all the time.” She raised her umbrella and started running toward her car. He walked another half hour or so and went home.








 


Rain In Texas?

By Norma (Twi1ite@sbcglobal.net)





Rain, the haunting sound of it
Like a long-ago memory,
Is it true you'll fall in a bit
Restoring ground's vitality?


Rumors fly - we wait in hope,
So dependent on your whims.
We so long for your muddy soap,
On banks of creek and lake rims.









 


In The Storm

By Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com)





Why today did the rain start?
I was already crying.
Do you think it will ease my heart?


The thunder suits my mood.
Sounds like your voice.
Shouting cruel and crude.


Lightning stings my eyes.
Adding to the pain.
As my soul curls up and dies.


But it can't rain forever,
Eventually it will clear.
I'll forget you.....Never.









 


Rain In The City

By Sharon (Sunyskys1943@aol.com)





Into our life a little rain must fall
Except for maybe here
The clouds waft above in our fair blue sky
Somehow they don't tear


In the big cities rain comes down quite hard
People trudge to work
Umbrellas held by hand over the head
Wet weather by quirk


When they get there they shed their rainy gear
Grab a coffee cup
Hot liquid feels so very good today
Steam a-rising up


Rain pitter patters on the roof top
Rivers run down glass
Everyone hopes by the work day's long end
Rain will come to pass









 


Memories of Rain On a Tin Roof

By Evelyn (Evenccw@aol.com)





The house of my youth had a tin roof and lots of gutters to catch rain in rain barrels. Snuggled under the warmth of a patchwork quilt, I recall being roused from a sound sleep by the dazzling sound of rain on the tin roof. I no longer have a tin roof, but I still feel joy and wonder of God’s creation at the muffled sound of rain as I go to sleep at night or when I am awakened to the music of it. .

In the onrush of the sudden April showers of my youth, my siblings and I would scurry from our play in the yard to take cover on the back porch Cupping our hands under the roof overhang we’d catch water and splash each other. Mama would hysterically caution us, “Y’all are going to catch your death of cold!” Soon the sun would shine and she would line us up in the back yard and wash our heads with the “soft” rain water captured in the rain barrel.

As a farmer’s daughter I was always keenly aware of the capacious nature of those four little letters, R-A-I-N. When the skies “clabbered” up for rain, it was a sure thing that the lightning and the thundering would rock my little world and I would know fear. The animals in the barnyard were the first to sense the danger of a storm and take cover. The chickens in the hen yard took flight as one and the baby chicks took shelter under their mothers’ wings

The very sound of the word “rain” has a vibrancy, a ring to it. The Indians danced to the Rain god. One year special prayers were sent heavenward after Sunday Masses when the fields were parched and the crops were dying of drought. The fields had turned to dust bowls. The very next year the skies opened up and the fields were flooded and wasted. Petitions were sent heavenward for the rain to stop. Row upon row of corn, cotton, and sweet potatoes had became a wasteland of mud cracks.

Of the countless songs that have been written about rain, there are three that resonate in my heart. My mother’s song and laughter filled the hills and dales in my early years and she enchanted us when she’d sing and taught us the lessons of rain from the song in the Bring Crosby movie:



Pennies From Heaven
circa 1936



A long time ago
A million years BC
The best things in life
Were absolutely free.
But no one appreciated
A sky that was always blue.
And no one congratulated
A moon that was always new.
So it was planned that they would vanish now and then
And you must pay before you get them back again.
That's what storms were made for
And you shouldn't be afraid for
Every time it rains it rains
Pennies from heaven.
Don't you know each cloud contains
Pennies from heaven.
You'll find your fortune falling
All over town.
Be sure that your umbrella is upside down.
Trade them for a package of sunshine and flowers.
If you want the things you love
You must have showers.
So when you hear it thunder
Don't run under a tree.
There'll be pennies from heaven for you and me.



Secondly, there was the song, “April Showers.” The mud cracks and dust bowls were traded in for city living when the family moved north from Alabama to Ohio in 1946, the year the movie “The Jolson Story” appeared in theaters. That spring I was keenly aware that April showers caused rivulets to run down city sidewalks in place of country roads as I listened to the Al Jolson 1921 refrain “April Showers.” There is a poignancy about the tune. The words have about them a feeling of the cleansing of April rain and the scent of daffodils and hyacinth in the air:



April Showers
Al Jolson, circa 1921



Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here is the point you should never miss.


Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, (It's raining violets,)


And where you see clouds upon the hills,
You soon will see crowds of daffodils,
So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.




Fast forwarding in time to 1952, Tom and I were walking down the aisle on our wedding day, and Gene Kelly was singing, “Singing in the Rain.” And so were we!



Singing in the Rain



I'm singin' in the rain
Just singin' in the rain
What a glorious feeling
I'm happy again
I'm laughin' at clouds
So dark up above
The sun's in my heart
And I'm ready for love
Let the stormy clouds chase
Everyone from the place
Come on with the rain
I've a smile on my face
I'll walk down the lane
With a happy refrain
Just singin'
Singin' in the rain


Dancin' in the rain
Da da da da da da...
I'm happy again...


I'm dancin'
And singin'
In the rain



Despite all the ups and downs and the strife that can be caused by rain, thunder and lightning, this I know for certain. Without rain there would be no rainbows. I will never be too old to thrill at the sight of a rainbow or wonder about the pot of gold at the end of one. If the truth be told, I have found my pot of gold. It is filled with a happy mixture of the sunshine and rain in my life. My life is a fulfilment of the dreams that I dreamed while snuggled safe and warm under a patchwork quilt listening to the dazzling sound of rain on a tin roof!








 


Liquid Sunshine

By Mary Mizrany (MusingByMary@aol.com)





I call you "Liquid Sunshine"
oh, fall, upon me, sweet rain . . .
refresh the land, please do,
you will not bring us pain ~


I open wide my arms
enfolding you in love . . .
wash away my dusty thoughts
as I lift my face above ~


I'll listen to your song
sway with your rhythmic beat . . .
enjoying every moment with you
Liquid Sunshine, oh, so sweet ~


Breathing in with joy
the fragrance you release . . .
for the newness I am grateful
the dryness now shall cease ~


Your friend, the sun, is beckoning
guess, my dear refresher, you must go . . .
I see the gift you left behind
'tis a glorious rainbow ~


Thank you for your visit,
to this dry and thirsty land . . .
I love you "Liquid Sunshine"
you are delightful and so grand!







 


 



Watch this website for more "Write to a Picture" pages.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.


Hello October

Little Owl

Lefty Loosey, Righty Tighty

Favors

My September Prayer

Eddie And The Baby Bunny

Apples (9 Authors)

September Morn (10 Authors)

Roses




A new feature at Lara's Den is free E-cards.
I make them and offer them to our visitors and authors.
Click the button to access the index.


And.......for many others, click the index image.



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