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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.
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