BA (06/25/1940 / North Carolina)

The Storm

The Storm

The heavens darken; the clouds are filled,
A rumble far away, with a thunderous roar,
A single light splits, as it flees to the earth,
A storms approaching, with a fear instilled

The limbs on the trees, sway back and forth,
Signs shake and shiver, as the winds mighty force,
Displays its strength, to all creatures who fear,
A storms approaching, it is coming from the north.

Power and intensity, of magnificent clouds,
A rupture is waiting, as it sends forth a roar,
To dropp its tears, on the earth below.
A Storms approaching like a darkened shroud.

Run, find shelter, all creatures below,
The heavens are angry, they send out a cry,
As lightening flashes, then streaks to the ground,
A storms approaching, and the water will flow.

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Comments (1)

I miss those regular and powerful storms, we only get 1 a year in LA, and strangely, usually here the storms arrive absent the thunder. Great poem! ~Beau