Lightning flashes across the sky,
Thunder rumbles a lullaby;
Soft and deep, very sweet and low,
Wind hums along, breathy and slow.
Tree branches gently dip and sway;
Waltzing the moonlit night away.
Raindrops kissing the cool night air,
Stars twinkling with light-beams fair.
Rustic theatre sets the scene
For a concert and play serene.
Handiwork of a mighty Lord:
A musical you can afford.
a sepia-tone cyclone
rolled over distant, thrashing fields
I went outside in black and white
just to know how the wind would feel.
glass gleamed, light seemed
weak for the time of year
nobody looked as trees shook
and the cyclone spun ever near.
your shining eyes, the stormy skies
boxed in on a colorless screen
roads stretching out just turn back around
and around in the sepia dream.
you called my name, the storm raged
I was still and watched it near
waiting for the rain
in the west, the clouds had been darkening
all day, even sitting on the bank--
when the air feels like this,
you just know it will rain soon--
but the sun made me sleepy
like Alice
before she dreamt of wonderland.
~I cannot believe it's been so long since I posted this story! Almost three months! Anyhow, here it is, and criticism is appreciated.~
When upon an evening late
I see the icy weather fey,
Striving still to penetrate
The warmth of my abode.
Like the mighty Iron Horse
Roaring down the track,
The wind screams 'round the corners,
To pierce each niche and crack.
Yet though the rain does not abate
There lies a pleasant feeling.
For wind and rain are in the cold,
While I am by the fire, reading.
Raw energy,
of an awesome kind,
Pervades the air,
and tickles your mind.
Dancing over the sky,
are greenish hues,
Except for tonight,
It should be blue.
A flicker of lighting,
on the edge of the horizon.
The thick air stirs,
Clouds cover the sun.
A hot breeze,
flows from the west;
A grumble, a thunder,
beginning unrest.
Animals squeal,
and together they huddle.
A storm they sense,
they know there’ll be trouble.