A Violent Storm

A Violent Storm It starts with dying leaves that litter lawns All tumbled over in remorseless wind Until at last, defeated, they collect Behind the garden wall in tattered piles, Discarded on a bleak deserted street An empty cola can goes rattling past Entrapped and powerless it bowls along Its tinny clatter masked by mounting gale. The clouds, as dark and grey as battleships Amassed in fury, scud across the sky Unleashing hail like bullets pounding earth As scornful weather reaches boiling point And branches, ripped asunder, turn and toss Upon the lake that churns and boils with wrath The hardy waterbirds, they hide in reeds But where will tiny humming birds be safe? As nature, wields her power, strength and might. The storm, a deluge o’er the land has spread To soak the fields so long deprived of rain Endowing thirsty soil with healing wealth Iambic pentameter for Deborah's contest