Thunder Rolls

Written by: Richard Pickett

Softly the gentle summer winds blow
across the wheat fields golden hues,
the tassels swaying rhythmically as if
dancing to an olden tune

the azure sky is beginning to fill
with marshmallow clouds puffy and white,
until the azure is no more
the gentle breeze, stronger now

those golden tassels are bending east
held in place as if motionless
as azure turned to white
white now gives way to gray

I can hear howling now in the distance
as if the mighty wolf is calling to mate
chilling is the sound that my ears behold
for now I know the wheat fields fate

as azure gave way to white
and white has given way to gray
gray now gives up her hold to black
then it comes the lightening bolt..crack

now fervent is the electricity in the air
as my hair stands on end,
I find I am standing wide open
as I hear the Thunder Roll