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Best Storm Poems

Below are the all-time best Storm poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of storm poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Storm Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Storm poems are below this new poems list.

Flying Above The Storm by McConnell, Gordon
After The Storm by Kendrick, Sara
A storm is coming by Harvey, Aa
Path of the Storm by Teagan, Becca
STORM IS ABREWING by Walker, Sonia
How do Storm Troopers sign their name by Raynes, Lewis
The Most Bitter Storm by Raven, Dayna
This Raging Storm by Jay, Alessia
Approaching Storm by Rigoler, Maurice
Ferocious Storm by duggan, peter

View all new Storm Poems

The Best Storm Poems

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A tribute to Leonora G

~ Yolanda was--her name ~    Featuring:) Leonora Galinta

From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315 
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility 
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything

Like a Massive Storm  
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night, 
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder, 
With the company of her own knight of darkness, 
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses, 
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.” 

A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet, 
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength, 
Nature devouring nature itself 
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children. 

Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare 
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain, 
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity

Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength- 


:)


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

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Little Fire

I witness you fading away, The winds blow frantically They are against us, as all are Little fire, rise in my cupped hands Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling? Little fire, brighten as I feed you This moisture receding from my pores must cease Before I drown this diminishing beauty I gasp, Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end My hands shake Little fire—my life! —I must keep you alive! Grow against all odds Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you, As you search for more fuel to masticate My flesh is no treasure to me, So lick me deep, my flame Devour these hands that shield you Rise hastily, as you burn Ascending up my arms, Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness Boil and evaporate every murderous tear— The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose Eat through every sinew, and every tissue, Every muscle and every bone that has grown For this moment and this moment only I give you every piece of me, little fire! So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder I give you my all, blessed fire! So that these eyes may witness every storm die And I may laugh at their futility!


Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016

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Wood Stages

I Death Wood

My skeleton, the trembling tree,
hit by the axes of ambulances
due to the decay of disease.
My muscles languish as wilted leaves.
My organs are rotting red apples.
My soul is the searing wind, while
my thoughts tick like termites.

The ivy of MS illness wraps with
waste around my twisted trunk.
Suddenly, spiders of suicide 
descend onto my branches.
They crawl across my broken bark,
crackling my rustic eyesight.

The sun, a golden unicorn, gone
into the forest of healthy laughter.
My wilted wood wanes in a cloud coma
with no moon, stars or watercolor sky.
Where are my wildflowers? 
Where is my green gleam?
I wait and wish for black lighting.

II Birth Wood

My family, the fog where most
float in the underworld as veiled
ghosts along the grassy grounds.
My thirsty roots reach for them
like wild hands hungry in ebony soil.
Sometimes their memory perfumes
and pollinates my heart with prayers.

My friends are a flock of birds that
become singing bracelets upon my bark.
Their feathers grace me like silk hope.
Their beaks devour the suicide spiders
on my weak wood, and their cheerful 
songs encourage me to bloom once again. 

Full moon flashes as a white wizard,
wearing a cloak of competitive clouds,
while moody night smolders as his black hat.
Spirals of opal light make my bark bright.
Spirit moonbeams weave within my wood,
healing hollow shadows, and allowing me to 
taste the monthly midnight milk of magic.

III Rain Wood

Spring steams with saturating rainfall,
sealing my splinters, washing away webs,
and the dirt of daily depression. 
My sap slides like a slow moving sea.
My tree bends and bows in all
directions, sprouting with joy.
Jade fire erupts along my branches.

Raindrops beat like crystal hearts
upon my boughs and my blossoms.
These clear spheres of nature inspire 
rebirth and germination of all life.
My apples sing as flutes, my leaves
clap hands, and my trunk plays harp.

My lover, the lone eagle, appears and flaps
his feathered wings upon my wooden nest.
Our love is best lived in traveling weather.
My limbs taste the last drops of dissipating dew
as the crocheting clouds release final rivers.
Deer court in the fermenting forest,
while golden unicorn grazes upon me.

February 7th 2008

Broken Wings Sponsor
Contest Any Poem You Ever Penned


Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2015

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DaRK CloUds - A collaboration with Liam Mc Daid

Grey clouds the innocent sky ambushing light turns dark 
stumbling over a tombstone opening up cold graves

When eyes become frozen behind scenes in hidden truth  
as a weight deadens upon the shoulders without hope 

A ghost from past experience consumes the present 
and golden sands blacken beneath your feet fallen one
  
Deep undercurrents strains awaken in the ocean 
Invisible cloaked dagger pierces without mercy

I pray waters calming find peace in this mortal frame
as the whirlpool of desires casts an ominous spell

Upon the sea of life Satanic storms enter Hell
and exudes within the malevolent clouds failure
 
Forgiveness stands at the crossroads beholden no more 
within promise of a dream transparent through the rain 

As yellow moonlight draws one pathway clearly cutting  
brings you safely home to love under a fragile roof   

Under black currents of loss when the heart returns beat 
in the last teardrop sorrow remained faithfully loved 


In collaboration with The Irish Poet Liam Mc Daid 
2016


Copyright © Red Fiery | Year Posted 2016

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The Words That flow Through My Pen

Sometimes, life has no reason unlike the seasons
It aimlessly drifts with the wind
We find ourselves in places of unfamiliar faces
Bathing in the shadows of sin
Our souls become lost up in the holocaust
That once was a beautiful life
Like a ship drifting upon the tide we bang and then we ride
The white horse straight into death
Into a giant black hole we dive in with our soul
Until we have nothing left
We then fall prey to our host who spreads butter on our toast
Our habits take over our lives
Everything we hold dear falls with one last tear
Into the darkness of night
Tired and defeated all our hope is depleted
Because we have nothing left to lose
Sometimes the storm passes as slow as molasses
Left frozen somewhere in the snow
Then our red eyes run dry with no tears left to cry
As we admit, I’d rather be dead
If you have a desire to live right, please take heed of my plight
And know that it’s never to late
Soon as you give it away find your knees and pray
You will find the comfort of home
And all of the disgrace will fall off of your face
Like the leaves that fall off the tree
And just like the bare tree soon you will see
Life is reborn in the spring
Like a warm days cool breeze, God fills us with his ease
And through him we find some peace
One day at time the trials all unwind
As the jigsaw falls into place
As everything gets better we become one with the weather
And the seasons suddenly become our friend
Our lives suddenly fly past, because we want to make them last
Like an ice-cream on a really hot day 
We are overcome with the obligation to tell of our salvation
Remembering all of those left behind
Some will find their way, others all we can say
Is Lord, we truly did our best
Dear Lord we write for your glory, telling our stories
That we would rather keep hid on the shelf
Our desire is to aspire so we can rise ever higher
With the words that flow though our pen
Giving of ourselves becomes our greatest wealth
As our souls become one with the Son
No high could be higher than faith and desire
Knowing we have been born again
One day we will stand before the gates that shall open to our fate
As heaven welcomes us in
We will look down on this earth, spirits of a new birth
Watching over the seeds that we spread
Knowing their lives were made better, because we were able to weather
The storm that raged through night 
Until the day I become shadows and dust I'll forever trust
The words that flow through my pen




Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010

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Cimmerian Grey

Transparent rain absconded from gloomy grey horizons as the malingering sun hid behind a colony of cadet clouds. Overcast and murky, the air developed a depressive atmosphere, with somber shadows rushing past on wet taupe pavements. Ash grey smoke ascended through chimneys vaporising the misty foggy skies, as unrelenting rain ravaged slate roofs. Every strangers face I saw was caliginous, but I saw no forlorn funeral, only a sinister sepulchral storm suffusing. The master painter was painting unilluminated, except for strokes of silver lightning illuminating the platinum tenebrous skies. Gradually everything got darker, as a whirlpool of demonic winds approached closer, obscuring everything into cimmerian grey. Safe within my sanctuary, I watched as the storm passed leaving a trail of destruction behind on a very grey day. 25 February 2016


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Everything Froze

                   Everything Froze


a giant crystal wind chime spread its tone
teeth of icicles consumed a home
misted rain encased fence posts and rail
power lines succumb to winter’s weight and fail

vehicles in free style pirouettes
slide beneath the curtain call of white
taunted by the feigned applause of wind
stinging critic of a dance that will not end

children do the snow day dance of glee
parents know how long this day will be
until the child that lives within them all
makes and throws the season’s first snowball

streets await the toothbrush of the plow
snow men don old hats and carrot nose
angels in the snow cold trumpets blow
to celebrate the day everything froze


John G. Lawless
2/14/2014


Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014

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After The Storm

Lightning flashed, blinded my innocent, trusting eyes.
Thunder ravaged my soul, and forced out my cries.

Destructive winds threatened, ripped me all apart.
Raindrops, the tears that ever flooded my heart.

Dark clouds were ever-present, in turbulent air.
Yet, no winds could stir the flowers in my hair.

No longer waiting for that storm to pass the hill.
I left it behind, and walked away by my own will.

A rainbow shined beautifully, yet arched into a frown.
As every now and then, the rain still comes down.

I have stepped right over you, like scattered debris.
As the sun's rays now light down a new path for me.





For Shanity Rain's contest - "After The Storm"



Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

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A storm is brewing

A storm is brewing, increasing panic, demanding perpetual alertness. The sun is hidden as charcoal clouds, cast meadows into shadowy darkness. Birds seek shelter as horizons ignite with illuminating bolts of lightning. Screaming thunder, torments petrified minds, even in dwelling, they find it frightening. Winds begin to howl with stronger force, demolishing fragile foundations. Rain surges unleashing barbaric floods, destroying crops and plantations The air becomes a vicious vortex of debris as victims wait with nervous speculation. As calm is restored in the atmosphere, they assess the atrocious situation.
18 April 2016 A Storm Is Brewing - Poetry Contest by Kelly Deschler


Copyright © Silent One | Year Posted 2016

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Prayer Cried Out In The Storming Waves

Prayer Cried Out In The Storming Waves



Fought the waves, the maddened tumbling sea
doomed ship sinking swiftly beneath me
Prayers to God,to every saint I ever knew
no desire to reside beneath this ocean blue

Midnight's stormy fury soon moved past
ship gone, me clinging to a broken mast
Fear, the kind that eats into your soul
rebuked my every hopeful, impossible goal

Prayers renewed with sad desperate pleas
Lord, let me survive these angry seas
The waves beat me about with great delight
I am tired, give me strength to fight
Master,find all the good that rests in me
save me, to do all that you may please

Prayer ended, my legs and arms do so tire
as the last ember was burning in my fire
Hope raced forth in a bright shining light
dawn broke forth from that darkest night

The rays hit me with a soft, sweet breeze
so calm,so very calm my soul was at ease
A single gull flew over my bobbing head
Hope cried out,you live,you are not dead

Land must now be very close hereabouts
So tired but that did not stop my shouts
Thank you Lord,this gift I will never forget
I believe,even though I am not home yet

A rescue ship's horn was soon blasting away
saved I'd be on this fine glorious day
Soon I was safe, safe on board her deck
I knew then faith and prayer saved my neck

Captain said, saw your flare just before dawn
thats when we raced and really poured it on
I was so confused and my mind it did so stun
I had no lifesaving flares and no flare gun!

Robert J. Lindley, 05-24-2015

Note:  Was it a dream, my memory tells me I lived it.
In another life so long ago.


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015

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Two Trees: Mr Oak And Mr Bamboo

                     "Two Trees:  Mr. Oak And Mr. Bamboo"


A terrible wind storm was approaching and blowing everything out of it's path!
NOTHING....not one thing at all, could withstand it's awesome wrath!
Two trees saw this storm coming! YES!....it was coming their way!
One was Mr. Oak, the other Mr. Bamboo and very different things did they say!

* (Oh yeah, by the way, these two trees could talk!)

Now Mr. Oak tree was strong and mighty and was so solidly planted.
When in the distance he saw the wind storm, Oh!...he raved and he ranted!
"I am a mighty oak tree and I'll neither budge nor move,
what does this wind storm think it is, it's power I will disprove!"

"I don't move for any reason, and couldn't care less what that reason is!
I am the mighty oak tree and move in a breeze!!!...What madness is this???"
My stubbornness will see me through and when all is said and done,
I will still be standing right here, Mr. Bamboo, with this battle won!"

Mr. Bamboo looked too in the distance and he just so simply smiled.
It was as though he hadn't a care in the world,
though the wind storm was away less than a mile!

Mr. Bamboo looked at Mr. Oak and said quite philosophically,
"You know, sometimes bending even a little bit can help with flexibility!"
"See I do bend rather than resist and I come back stronger each time!
This helps me to avoid becoming stiff, even well into my prime!"

Mr. Oak glared hard at Mr. Bamboo and said "I don't bend for ANYONE! 
When that wind storm gets here, I'll show it who's the boss, 
and this will be over and done!"

The wind storm arrived with great intensity and everything was blown to and fro!
Mr. Bamboo was yielding and bending, Mr. Oak was shouting "NO!.. NO!!... NO!!!"
Mr. Bamboo was bent so far down, he was literally kissing the ground!
He then heard a "SNAP!", a "CRACKLE!" and a "CRASH!"
and Mr. Oak tree then fell down!

The wind storm moved on and the worst was over,
the clouds blew away and the sun came out!
Mr. Bamboo started rising up slowly, he moved as if he was a young sprout!

Mr. Bamboo looked over at Mr. Oak, who was clearly broken in half!
He was lying on the ground splintered and shaken,
the ultimate price paid in the storm's aftermath!

"I don't understand what happened!" Mr. Oak said, "I was so mighty and strong!"
"Nothing!...NOTHING could move me! Why did this go so wrong?"
Mr. Bamboo was empathetic and looking for the right words to say!
He sighed, looked at Mr. Oak, and this reply he did give that day....

"Yes, you were so strong and mighty and determined to stand your ground,
but there are some forces of Nature that will dumbfound and truly astound!"
"I tried to tell you about yielding, which is the natural way!
Yes, you will bend and be bowed down, but you'll spring back stronger and stay!"

So I wish you the best in your new life, where you will be surely stable,
and you will most definitely stand sturdy and strong,
as a new oak dining room table!"



                        WTA-IV  3/24/2016


Copyright © Walter T. Ashe | Year Posted 2016

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Rolling Thunder And A Gentle Rain

The gentle music flows
from every drop of rain,
as it just lightly taps
against my window pane.

The wind begins to whistle
it's own melodious song,
while the wind-chimes
dance and play along.

The soothing sounds cast open
the windows and doors.
I close my eyes and breathe.
The energy surrounds me as my spirit soars.

I hold out my hand and feel the raindrops
as if they were at play.
My breath now quickened with emotion.
I taste the rain on my lips as I embrace the glorious day.

The curtains blow inward
the breeze itself is warm,
my mind is so peaceful
in the calm before the storm.

The sky's voice trembles
from above a darkening cloud,
as the rolling thunder
speaks it's thoughts aloud.

The thunder awakens
the flash of light.
The part of nature
that sends some to flight.

I chose to embrace the power of nature
in the earth and sky.
And bask in the wonder
that fills my eyes.

The rain seems to be letting up
as it puddles on the green grass,
and the once powerful winds
are now calming down at last.

The gray clouds are parting
and a bright rainbow forms,
proving that something beautiful
can come from such dangerous storms.

My eyes close and I breathe
in the scent of the cleansing rain.
The brilliant hues of the rainbow
dance in my mind where I feel no pain.

The sun peaks from behind the clouds
just to say hi.
I feel the warmth against my face
as I view the beauty with a sigh.






Written by: Kelly Deschler & Nature Boy


For Jared Pickett's contest - "Collaboration"


Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

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WHITE DEVIL

White Devil

Call it what you want!
I call it, his favorite season hunt...
Two hoofs imprinted near the riverfront.
Echoes calling my soul with a loud, ferocious grunt.

I smell it in the air, lost upon the white golden stair.
A deep frost dwelling all over his lair.
Tangled by the frozen grip of my hair.
A decision, I declare to give what he won't spare.

This man has no red suit..
Lurking in the white to recruit.
A midnight suicide clouding me with pollute.
I pause my tongue on mute, lost in a white castle chute.

Headed straight into a shivering blazing star path.
The land of snow covered like a bubble bath.
Breaking icicles like crystal glass, suck3d by the milky-way mass.
Multiplying bruises like a cascade, enjoying the aftermath. 

Finding a way to slit the pain in my domain.
I grab a coat and lace my name to Mary-Jane.
Inserting the finest line to ease the drain in my brain.
I drink the icy scotch, and drop a silver nickel into the devils cocaine.

Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.
I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.
Eight beats to every minute is my new heart rate.
I'm reaching for the white golden gate, where the white devil waits.

Drowning like liquor in a frappe mixing the winter's high tide.
Death to my soul is where I hide under this white blanket neutral side.
Too heavy to uplift this storm lost in the devil's cold custard suicide guide.
Waking up in a coma, in a world where white collides with the rage of suicide.

by;p.d.   
 (( Trapped in a snowy blizzard))


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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Haiku 16: Blood Pain

           lightning punching down,
                     fast, blinding, loud – blood pain
                                a prayer of tears 







to all who have suffered violence


David Meade


Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014

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A Storm Duet


Summer Storm
 
The wind blows  – quick, hard, fast – the hot stillness is broken
Corn stalks weave wildly as the wind marches through it rows
Dust rises to greet this invading storm
 
Large drops of heavy rain hit with a thud
Lightening electrifies and paints the blacking sky
Hail rips leaves from their home – a hard crack of thunder
 
Clouds tumbling, rolling, forming into a funnel
A loud rushing noise – a banshee scream
Trees snap, the wind-train thunders by . . . then a deep silence
 
Holding hands they arise from underground
Sky clearing, sun peeking through
A double rainbow appears – a promise – life . . . love
 
 
 
Winter Storm
 
The night is cold and wet, slick over bridges curving edge
The rain freezes turning sheets of ice into nature’s sculpture
Electrical power lines coated thick -- snap, taking heat away from all
 
Nights of darkness with candles are filled with hearts of hope
Ice storms that cripple a city and put a halt on activities
As beautiful as they are terrifying, they demand a reckoning
 
When January blows out fierce and February is held captive
Our human spirit tired and cold but not beaten  
Prays for warmer days ahead with confidence
 
Nights of hearths and man made fires
Fur lined slippers and flannel robes
Better off indoors, with close kin . . . warmed with hope and love


Written in collaboration with Mystic Rose
Beautiful is the friendship of a Mystic Rose . . .  sweet and warm


Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014

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A Perfect Storm

In an open field of endless, noiseless distance,
Rolling clouds cast an impending gloom;
A welcomed and promised darkness descends.
My eyes shut as I breathe in the aroma,
In anticipation of 
The cleansing that quickly approaches.
I cloak myself in the breeze, as it promises a release..
The cool wind, calming, so gently serene...
Sweeping over my overheated skin.
Finally, the fury is perfectly unleashed down upon me.
The winds, gusting in a frenzied rush
My hair whipping haphazardly around, 
Stinging at my face.
I smirk toward the sky, as I silently, but eagerly
Await the onslaught - 
This desperate release that I longed for in secret.
It sought me out, and found me. 
I hear the angry sounds
The roaring, begging to weep alongside me.
When suddenly, the violent tears begin to fall
With a sudden, breathtaking destructiveness.
The thunder, like me, cries out in pain,
With such sadness, angry liquid bathing the parched earth.
It saturates my face, my body drenched.
As I stand in the midst of the deluge, in awe,
Crashing winds attempt to destroy me,
But cannot find the strength.
Until the tears eventually run dry,
The painful clashes and cries become silent..
The skies yield to light, as the great and
Terrible sun demands to be seen.
I open my tear-stained eyes,
And glimpse a different world before me...
Cleansed and made new.
And I cannot understand, nor
Fathom the reality...
Of the beautifully, perfect
Broken release.


Copyright © Shirlee Rincon | Year Posted 2014

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Changing Sky

My weeping eyes behold the changing sky
O'erspread with clouds of grey where once was blue
With gaze upturned, I heave a burdened sigh
At all the world now changed to leaden hue
Yet still they onward, ever onward fly
And more appear to change the sky anew
And now, as troubled hearts their sorrows spill
These maudlin clouds the heavy rain distill

The sun obscured in shame, he hides his face
And lightning lights instead the cheerless gloom
While thunder follows swift in furious chase
As if to herald thoughts of coming doom
And still, the rain descends at hurried pace
As if the earth in water to entomb
It seems belike this storm would rage for aye
And all the earth would never chance to dry

But lo! The setting sun that once was veiled!
Draws nigh to show his grandeur forth below
He shines his beams abroad the clouds to gild
And sparks the drops as diamonds all aglow
Mid pools of sapphire blue the sky is filled
With vibrant coloured shades of heaven's bow
What eye could see and not revive its fire?
Nor mind behold and not its thoughts inspire?


Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013

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A Rage Against The Storm

A Rage Against The Storm


Alas! against the storm I did bellow,
you bloweth upon the wrong fellow
My soul you have now so sorely tried
fear, your gift has now so surely died!

Nature feeds your evil blowing wrath,
I curse your daring this upon my path
Heaven's powers ignore your wicked deeds
you the rot that eats away joy's seeds!

Hark! all the destruction you have wrought,
fruits of sins that man surely has bought
Yet, I defy your right to so hammer me
I, the strongest root of my family tree!

Rage on , tear out the withered and the old
This man defies you with a heart very bold!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-27-2014


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

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The Lighthouse

The lighthouse stands, the lighthouse stands
Above the foaming wave,
Above the sands.

He stands so brave, he stands so brave,
As winds against him blow;
The ships to save.

He sends below, he sends below
His fiery, gleaming light,
The way to show.

All through the night, all through the night
He guards the lonely point
With torches bright.


Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014

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Powerful Storm

Drenching rains, no shape nor form
Howling winds, skies midnight black
Lightning striking, a powerful storm
Our little haven, now under attack

Plans for our moonlit stroll are dashed
No lights, no music, just you and me
Squeezing me tighter with every flash
Letting our two longing hearts be free

Waiting out the storm, we cuddle by the fire
Enjoying the crackling embers until it's done 
Soft touches, slow kisses, both showing desire
Two kindred spirits, coming together as one



Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014

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Midnight In The Library

Around midnight, in the library I found myself drawn,
to these shelves haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
as a rare, late October storm brews beyond the pane,
bringing life back to the creatures of Shelley and Stoker.

To these shelves, haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
my fingers grasp a book from under the dust and webs,
bringing life back, to the creatures of Shelley and Stoker,
it's well-worn, leather spine just waiting to chill my own.

My fingers grasp a book, from under the dust and webs,
while autumn winds rustle leaves like crisp, yellowed paper,
it's well-worn leather spine, just waiting, to chill my own,
my head, sinking further back into the velvet-lined chair.

While autumn winds rustle, leaves like crisp, yellowed paper,
candlelight flickers dimly across the tattered old pages,
my head sinking further, back into the velvet-lined chair,
where the ghosts of Irving and Dickens will not let me sleep.

Candlelight flickers dimly, across the tattered, old pages,
I, unable to recline, with the shadows thrown by the fire,
where the ghosts, of Irving and Dickens, will not let me sleep,
residents of the dark welcome, and wait to be revisited.

I, unable to recline with the shadows, thrown by the fire,
as a rare, late October storm brews, beyond the pane,
residents of the dark, welcome and wait, to be revisited,
around midnight, in the library, I found myself... drawn.






Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

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Deeply Hurt Love

Feet not up yet dreaming looking into the deep distant horizon screams
need to take turf in remembering howls across oceans mourning dream special wish

You would want a good fire tonight for sure ice stormy fierce cold cutting
out walking giant waves hitting of the shore thundering pounds lashing clash 

Today the wind fairly woke me up piercing wide eye opening vision
Then when I got home just felt ten years younger alive again one storm

Now that's a good omen laughing to myself carries one to the high Heavens
Must be the salted spray love mixed with sea mist smashes you to the ground love

New therapy go out to the sea front as gales howling with angry force break news
blowing giant waves crashing heavy of cliffs thundering roars echoes inside sad 

Wind spitting sea salt sand peppering the face in your hardened heart
hate remains your driving engine unforgiving hung up on the past 


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

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Early Winter Storm

early winter storm snowflakes mixed with freezing rain chilling to the bone your killer smile warms me along with some lemon tea


Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015

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Evening Storm


I drift as storm and night duet,
a dance amidst a choir of rain.
wrung clouds strum strong and passionate
to cart away my deepest pain.
In every grand, thunderous note,
God’s loving heart beats in my soul. 
Across the darkness, lightning floats,             
to heaven skyward, I extol.    
Winds sing with love blown rhythmically     
just like sweet-sounding nightingales. 
Clear sheets of rain course through lithe trees   
bending to meet the river dale. 
Then soft comes dawn, I praise the storm
in gleam of misty earth transformed.

For Shadow's Pick A Subject Contest, 3/4/15
*Subject - Storm


Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015

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Secrets in a Storm

Secrets sail on the whirling winds,
along with the dark and driven clouds.
Carried aloft with litter and leaves
are invisible, partly submerged longings:

to hitch a ride on the primal rawness,
to abandon all things set and tethered,
to project oneself toward the unknown,
while thriving through the natural chaos.


Copyright © Carol Mays | Year Posted 2015