The Storm by Theodore Roethke 1Against the stone breakwater,Only an ominous lapping,While the wind whines overhead,Coming down from the mountain,Whistling between the arbors, the winding terraces;A thin whine of wires, a rattling and flapping of leaves,And the small street-lamp swinging and slamming against the lamp pole.Where have the people gone?There is one light on the mountain.2Along the sea-wall, a steady sloshing of the swell,The waves not yet high, but even,Coming closer and closer upon each other;A fine fume of rain driving in from the sea,Riddling the sand, like a wide spray of buckshot,The wind from the sea and the wind from the mountain contending,Flicking the foam from the whitecaps straight upward into the darkness.A time to go home!--And a child's dirty shift billows upward out of an alley,A cat runs from the wind as we do,Between the whitening trees, up Santa Lucia,Where the heavy door unlocks,And our breath comes more easy,--Then a crack of thunder, and the black rain runs over us, overThe flat-roofed houses, coming down in gusts, beatingThe walls, the slatted windows, drivingThe last watcher indoors, moving the cardplayers closerTo their cards, their anisette.3We creep to our bed, and its straw mattress.We wait; we listen.The storm lulls off, then redoubles,Bending the trees half-way down to the ground,Shaking loose the last wizened oranges in the orchard,Flattening the limber carnations.A spider eases himself down from a swaying light-bulb,Running over the coverlet, down under the iron bedstead.The bulb goes on and off, weakly.Water roars into the cistern.We lie closer on the gritty pillow,Breathing heavily, hoping--For the great last leap of the wave over the breakwater,The flat boom on the beach of the towering sea-swell,The sudden shudder as the jutting sea-cliff collapses,And the hurricane drives the dead straw into the living pine-tree.The Snow Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,Seems nowhere to alight: the whited airHides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.The sled and traveler stopped, the courier's feetDelayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sitAround the radiant fireplace, enclosedIn a tumultuous privacy of storm. Come see the north wind's masonry.Out of an unseen quarry evermoreFurnished with tile, the fierce artificerCurves his white bastions with projected roofRound every windward stake, or tree, or door.Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild workSo fanciful, so savage, nought cares heFor number or proportion. Mockingly,On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate,A tapering turret overtops the work.And when his hours are numbered, and the worldIs all his own, retiring, as he were not,Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished ArtTo mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,The frolic architecture of the snow.A Storm in the Night? Jenifer R. StanleyLighting comes as a flash of light. Thunder comes in a boom of might. The wind howl's like a wolf in the night. The rain comes down as a roar of fright. These are the sacred sounds of a stormy night. They mix together like a Werewolves bite. They would make a superstitious person die of fright. These are the sacred sounds of a storm in the night. Weather Poems - A Storm in the Night - Nature Poems WaterWater, water everywhere, water all around,Water in the ocean, water in the ground.Water in a river, water in a creek,Water in a faucet with a drip-drip leak!Water in a fountain, water in a lake,Water on a flower, as day begins to break.Water from a waterfall, rushing down from high,Water from a dark cloud, raining from the sky.Water boiling hot, water frozen ice,Water in a blue lagoon, clean and clear and nice.Water at a fire, gushing through a hose,Water in a garden, so every flower grows.Water for the animals swimming in the sea,Water, water everywhere for you and for me! by Meish Goldish, 101 Science Poems & Songs for Young Learners, Instructor Books Rain(sung to "It Ain't Gonna' Rain No More, No More")It is gonna' rain some more, some more,It is gonna' rain some more!When drops of water start to pour,It is gonna' rain some more, some more!Why do drops of water pour?Drops of water pour?The clouds can't hold them anymore,That's why drops憨涪封皇莩郝鳳酮脯捆 of water pour!It is gonna' rain some more, some more,It is gonna' rain some more!。