My Midsummer Rainstorm

Loving him is like Being in love with a Midsummer rainstorm- He's got a soul born of thunder And lightning- Got caught up in his whirlwind, spinnin' Into the circle of his arms- Dazedly- But he always looked so- calm- Didn't he? The eyes of a storm always do; But when you get close enough to Hear the wind-blown Whisper of his sigh, You'll feel the energy swirling Under the surface of his skin Like fireworks All ready to burst into shimmer- White-hot sparks Burn in the dark-cloud shadow Of his smiling eyes- Like hurricane warnings flashing Between hot and cold- like Thunderbolts and fury of a downpour Sudden enough to leave you gasping- You get swept away before You have time to get a good grasp On your heart... Loving him is like that.