Before a Storm

"Before a Storm" By Rachel Heffington The thunderheads are mustering In ranks across the fields With iron-colored shields And oft the wind is blustering. A wild gust, like battle-cry Without a voice, is tossed And in the tempest lost. Roars forth and shakes the low'ring sky. The poplars bend in flutt'ring dread Of dancing to the psalm Writ in the fearful calm By minstrel-clouds with pens of lead. Then with a final howling blast The gale-solider bends And from his hand sends Fleet rain-fledged arrows at last.