Listen to poem:
Flashes of lightning at dusk
in dark dank distant clouds
heralds the storm brewing.
So far, its too far away to
hear or feel the claps
of thunder rattle the
windows in their frames.
The storm engulfs the sky in spewed splodges
of dark ferment
as it draws ever onward on
the path towards you.
It embezzles your attention, sucks you in, as the flashes rear up,
like a wolf with white teeth snarling, getting ready to attack.
The storm is closer now flashing, banging, barging
its way to fill the sky with foreboding torment, anger and gloom.
Its overhead now, dropping its hail like cluster bombs, banging
on the roof, trying to shatter the windows.
The sky is filled with whip-cracks
and blinding flashes of light
as it builds to a cosmic kaleidoscopic crescendo.
The wind builds to a snarl,
blowing the storm away like a parent
scolding and grabbing at a naughty child.
The storm moves away with fading, spluttering flashes
and murmuring grunts of thunder.
Outside the eerie sunset scrubbed clean by the storm
is tinged bright with shudders of lightning light
and the haunting smell of rain emitted by the grass,
splattered with hail,
white, bright and melting.
Copyright © John Anderson | Year Posted 2022
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
to post a comment