A wayward sigh escapes you,
And truly blends with ease
Among the sights and sounds around you,
Greying skies and rustling leaves.
There is an ever-present beauty
In the calm before the storm
Anticipation,stillness,and the thoughts of keeping warm.
The calm is coming to an end,
It's more than plain to see,
As lightning breaks the clean grey slate
Of sky behind the trees,
The rain begins to mist, the wind begins to howl,
Lightning brightens threatening skies
As thunder snarls and growls.
The postman looks up to the sky
And shakes a tight-clenched fist
For the raindrops dance upon his head
Falling stronger than mist.
Somehow fear eludes me as I take in all the sights,
And suddenly,looking to the west I see clouds of white.
Blue comes shortly after then warm rays of sun.
Just as it came the thunderstorm is done.