April Showers Poetry Novels & Stories

Vivian sat alone in the shadowed corner of the bar, watching strangers drift beneath the amber glow of the lights. She could not believe she had actually fallen for a rumor. “The real reason the Hayes and Carter families postponed the wedding? Sebastian’s ex was kidnapped. He’d rather call off the marriage than leave her to die.” One reckless sentence was all it took for her to book the first flight to Harbor City. Sebastian was the untouchable heir everyone admired—a fixture on the covers of financial magazines and the polished businessman delivering keynote speeches at charity galas. What could a man like him possibly be doing in a place like this? Vivian shook her head, set down her g

(Singing in the shower) And when the times get rough There ain't no givin' up 'Cause it just feels so right (Singing in the shower) Don't care what others say If I got you, I'm straight You bring my heart to life, yeah You light me up inside Like the 4th of July Whenever you're around I always seem to smile And people ask me how Well, you're the reason why I'm dancing in the mirror And singing in the shower La-da-dee, la-da-da, la-da-da (Hey) Singing in the shower La-da-dee, la-da-da, la-da-da You got me singing in the shower La-da-dee, la-da-da, la-da-da Singing in the shower La-da-dee, la-da-da, la-da-da.❤ ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ ❤ Jacob's point of view ❤

I need to take a walk to clear my head. My mind is racing. The clouds shift above me as my feelings grow darker, hiding the last rays of sunshine. As my mood continues to grow dark, rain starts to fall, heavily, dampening my spirits even more. I feel the temperature drop and it begins to hail. It is early December, almost the last week of school, and while this weather is not out of season, this storm came up suddenly, surprising people on the street who rushed inside or under awnings, packages, and purses held overhead as makeshift umbrellas. I don’t bother to find shelter. I let the water cover me, washing away my pain. I am not sure how long I wander before I look up to see it is now twil

‘How should I face all the cold and warm winds that paint my face with sadness? ‘How should I think of the past and the future that are all filled with pain? ‘From now on, my heart will never be clear again. ‘From now on, the mountains will never look green again. ‘I’m afraid to look at the fallen autumn flowers. ‘I’m afraid that the flowers in spring will look like tears.’ After Silvia read the poem word by word, she felt goosebumps all over her body again.

The murderer of fourteen people and I was going to be number fifteen. I turned to look at my assailant, finally identify them. But no one was there. The rain was still falling, each drop sitting on my skin like a puddle that would never leave, perfectly formed, perfectly cold. I feel the water steal my body heat just a tiny bit at a time. Perhaps once I would have sort shelter or warmth - but no longer. I wonder, though, what if the sun broke through? What if each drop sparkled with light? What then? Would the warmth seep through and bring a new reality? Would I shake off this rain as quickly as a cat after a storm? Because I think I'd like that. I'd like that a lot.

Frustration and disappointment etched deep lines on my forehead as I gazed up at the darkening sky, ominous clouds gathering overhead. "It can't rain now," I muttered to myself, my voice filled with exasperation. "Not when I'm so close." The raindrops began to fall, softly at first, but steadily growing in intensity. Each droplet felt like a cruel reminder of the ticking clock, my opportunity slipping away with every passing second. I clenched my fists, feeling the dampness on my skin, and let out a sigh of defeat.

Where that ripple touched, some hearts felt it. This March, with the spring rains drizzling, people went out for walks and visited their ancestors' graves. The days passed in a damp and soggy manner. By April, the damp weather finally passed, and the sun blazed brightly, cycling in the sky. No one would have expected Jessica to be the first to seek help from Skye Embroidery.

She couldn't shake the feeling that he might still be lurking in the shadows, waiting for her to let her guard down. As the drizzle turned into a steady rain, soaking Ora's clothes and sending shivers down her spine, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. With each droplet that landed on her face and slid down her body, she felt the sting of her pain intensify. Closing her eyes against the downpour, Ora let the rain wash over her, hoping in some small way it might cleanse the turmoil raging inside her. But instead of finding solace in the cold water, she only felt the ache in her heart grow stronger.

But the moment I step out, it begins pouring. The rain lends a richness to each colour, and the browns deepen in a way that calms my heart and provides solidity to my spirit. The grass becomes glossy, reflecting the light, giving their wands a fresh sparkling sheen as they softly wave in the breeze. This rain gives a breath of fresh air, each drop is a divine gift for each component of existence. I lift my hand, bend my head toward the sky, and feel water cascade on my palm. Soon, the sky begins to clear, revealing a blank blue canvas with a few cotton clouds floating around. I take a step outside the shelter. As my sole touches the earth, my toes are bathed in the newly bequeathed rain. It

As I returned to my hometown, gentle winds brushed my hair, the scent of grass and soil tickling my nose. I'd wandered far away from home in my early years, but time out there had made me wiser. Now, I understood that home was where I chose to stay. A storm had passed, and old leaves had fallen. When spring came, new shoots would sprout. I would be there, basking in the sunlight, while the scent of flowers fluttered in the air. Life was good.