Storms
I watch with fascination; Mother Nature on a great warpath.
Thunderous drums sound warning; soon to feel her rightful wrath.
Thousands of black horses running boldly across the sky.
Warriors branding spears of lightning, mounted with such pride.
Angry at the white eyes, they circle with such speed.
A deafening wind now gathers, neath their mighty steeds.
We set upon destroying her, but her power is unbound.
Her whirling fingers now reach down and pluck us from her ground.
Her tears now flood our ugliness and wash it out to sea.
So vivid is my vision, but too late we will believe.
Written June 27, 2014
Contest: Storms
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Arlene Smith | Year Posted 2014
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