~ Yolanda was--her name ~ Featuring:) Leonora Galinta
From a hell storm,
A mighty she-devil took on its form
Like a woman scorn ascending from the sea
Haiyan whipped across the central Philippines,
A deadly typhoon, maximum winds of around 315
Terrorizing the fragile mind before making landfall
Hitting with the center eye off from her hostility
A merciless turbulence that came and changed everything
Like a Massive Storm
She comes in as the wise thief of the day and night,
In her notorious gust of rage roars in disguise of thunder,
With the company of her own knight of darkness,
Raze all in a blast of waves wherever her path crosses,
Ruining one of the cities down to a devastation in the land
“Pearl of the Orient Seas.”
A mighty tempest in a woman’s name…. Yet,
A disgrace with more than an immortal man in strength,
Nature devouring nature itself
Including her stewards and stewardesses
An unmerciful encroachment, robbing, killing adults and children.
Yolanda, so cruel in her evil walloping!
A guest left smiling,
Engraving echoes of tears, from every single mourn
Vain, wicked, and colorless -no other air’s compare
The lives she stole, one heart at a time
Pouring down the most nauseating rain,
The pain is dissenting with everyone-- everywhere.
The bully of wind, invading sands of serenity
Unknowingly, far beyond your back----------------------------
Everybody will be summoning up more than your strength-
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are
Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling?
Little fire, brighten as I feed you
This moisture receding from my pores must cease
Before I drown this diminishing beauty
Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest
Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end
My hands shake
Little fire—my life!
—I must keep you alive!
Grow against all odds
Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster
Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you
Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you,
As you search for more fuel to masticate
My flesh is no treasure to me,
So lick me deep, my flame
Devour these hands that shield you
Rise hastily, as you burn
Ascending up my arms,
Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair
Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness
Boil and evaporate every murderous tear—
The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose
Eat through every sinew, and every tissue,
Every muscle and every bone that has grown
For this moment and this moment only
I give you every piece of me, little fire!
So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens
Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder
I give you my all, blessed fire!
So that these eyes may witness every storm die
And I may laugh at their futility!
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2016
He watched her all day,
From behind his window,
fascinated by her persistence,
renouncing a wholesome dinner,
the warmth and comfort of a home.
She stood, instead, in the telephone box
calling no one, receiving no one.
Surely if she did not phone anyone
One could assume she was waiting for one.
But no one rang. All Christmas Eve.
The wind blew icy cold and it was clear
she was not adequately clothed.
She must have been suffering a lot.
He wanted to shout to her:
Call it a truce, forget the caller,
come to my humble abode
and rest a while. Here's plenty to eat,
turkey, vegetables, mince pies and cakes
and a warmed red sangria
to pump some blood into your face.
She stayed put until midnight
as winter's blizzard opened its doors,
to herald in the birth of Christ.
Her ghost cared not for this,
and tired out she fell
crumbled dead on the floor
of an abandoned telephone box.
Next day they took her away.
He remained at the window,
angry, wondering the why of it all.
It was days later that he remembered.
Then he felt the terrible shame.
He had not prayed for her at all.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2016
I Death Wood
My skeleton, the trembling tree,
hit by the axes of ambulances
due to the decay of disease.
My muscles languish as wilted leaves.
My organs are rotting red apples.
My soul is the searing wind, while
my thoughts tick like termites.
The ivy of MS illness wraps with
waste around my twisted trunk.
Suddenly, spiders of suicide
descend onto my branches.
They crawl across my broken bark,
crackling my rustic eyesight.
The sun, a golden unicorn, gone
into the forest of healthy laughter.
My wilted wood wanes in a cloud coma
with no moon, stars or watercolor sky.
Where are my wildflowers?
Where is my green gleam?
I wait and wish for black lighting.
II Birth Wood
My family, the fog where most
float in the underworld as veiled
ghosts along the grassy grounds.
My thirsty roots reach for them
like wild hands hungry in ebony soil.
Sometimes their memory perfumes
and pollinates my heart with prayers.
My friends are a flock of birds that
become singing bracelets upon my bark.
Their feathers grace me like silk hope.
Their beaks devour the suicide spiders
on my weak wood, and their cheerful
songs encourage me to bloom once again.
Full moon flashes as a white wizard,
wearing a cloak of competitive clouds,
while moody night smolders as his black hat.
Spirals of opal light make my bark bright.
Spirit moonbeams weave within my wood,
healing hollow shadows, and allowing me to
taste the monthly midnight milk of magic.
III Rain Wood
Spring steams with saturating rainfall,
sealing my splinters, washing away webs,
and the dirt of daily depression.
My sap slides like a slow moving sea.
My tree bends and bows in all
directions, sprouting with joy.
Jade fire erupts along my branches.
Raindrops beat like crystal hearts
upon my boughs and my blossoms.
These clear spheres of nature inspire
rebirth and germination of all life.
My apples sing as flutes, my leaves
clap hands, and my trunk plays harp.
My lover, the lone eagle, appears and flaps
his feathered wings upon my wooden nest.
Our love is best lived in traveling weather.
My limbs taste the last drops of dissipating dew
as the crocheting clouds release final rivers.
Deer court in the fermenting forest,
while golden unicorn grazes upon me.
February 7th 2008
Sponsor: A Poet Destroyer
Contest: 100 in a ROW contest--3
Copyright © Chantelle Anne Cooke | Year Posted 2015
The horizon was brewing ominous clouds,
Dark as if they came out of hell.
The once azure sky became hazy
As the north wind chilly breezes
Puffed up more stratocumulus,
Rain-heavy clouds that signified storms.
I rested against the balustrade
Of the promenade, looking down at the sea.
Waves upon waves dashed at the dark crags.
Sea spray washed my tired face.
Above the seagulls came to enjoy
The thunderstorm that would soon erupt
Above the small bay, now emptied of boats.
The sea gulls were indeed a sight to see.
Only a hundred or so circled the inlet.
They were truly a harbinger of storms.
They flew against the wind, or with it,
Or soared above it, much as they felt like it.
They plunged into the sea for food
Irrespective of where the chilly wind blew.
They were an elegant sight to see.
As the first drops of rain fell, I betook myself home.
My wife was waiting anxiously for me
Afraid I’ll get wet. “Watching the birds?”
Clearly she was not very much amused.
She turned her back on me, as thunder boomed
And lightening flashed but I went with the wind,
And clasped her round her winsome waist.
She did not resist, neither did I.
POTD 6 June 2017
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2017
Sometimes, life has no reason unlike the seasons
It aimlessly drifts with the wind
We find ourselves in places of unfamiliar faces
Bathing in the shadows of sin
Our souls become lost up in the holocaust
That once was a beautiful life
Like a ship drifting upon the tide we bang and then we ride
The white horse straight into death
Into a giant black hole we dive in with our soul
Until we have nothing left
We then fall prey to our host who spreads butter on our toast
Our habits take over our lives
Everything we hold dear falls with one last tear
Into the darkness of night
Tired and defeated all our hope is depleted
Because we have nothing left to lose
Sometimes the storm passes as slow as molasses
Left frozen somewhere in the snow
Then our red eyes run dry with no tears left to cry
As we admit, I’d rather be dead
If you have a desire to live right, please take heed of my plight
And know that it’s never to late
Soon as you give it away find your knees and pray
You will find the comfort of home
And all of the disgrace will fall off of your face
Like the leaves that fall off the tree
And just like the bare tree soon you will see
Life is reborn in the spring
Like a warm days cool breeze, God fills us with his ease
And through him we find some peace
One day at time the trials all unwind
As the jigsaw falls into place
As everything gets better we become one with the weather
And the seasons suddenly become our friend
Our lives suddenly fly past, because we want to make them last
Like an ice-cream on a really hot day
We are overcome with the obligation to tell of our salvation
Remembering all of those left behind
Some will find their way, others all we can say
Is Lord, we truly did our best
Dear Lord we write for your glory, telling our stories
That we would rather keep hid on the shelf
Our desire is to aspire so we can rise ever higher
With the words that flow though our pen
Giving of ourselves becomes our greatest wealth
As our souls become one with the Son
No high could be higher than faith and desire
Knowing we have been born again
One day we will stand before the gates that shall open to our fate
As heaven welcomes us in
We will look down on this earth, spirits of a new birth
Watching over the seeds that we spread
Knowing their lives were made better, because we were able to weather
The storm that raged through night
Until the day I become shadows and dust I'll forever trust
The words that flow through my pen
Copyright © Michael Jordan | Year Posted 2010
Grey clouds the innocent sky ambushing light turns dark
stumbling over a tombstone opening up cold graves
When eyes become frozen behind scenes in hidden truth
as a weight deadens upon the shoulders without hope
A ghost from past experience consumes the present
and golden sands blacken beneath your feet fallen one
Deep undercurrents strains awaken in the ocean
Invisible cloaked dagger pierces without mercy
I pray waters calming find peace in this mortal frame
as the whirlpool of desires casts an ominous spell
Upon the sea of life Satanic storms enter Hell
and exudes within the malevolent clouds failure
Forgiveness stands at the crossroads beholden no more
within promise of a dream transparent through the rain
As yellow moonlight draws one pathway clearly cutting
brings you safely home to love under a fragile roof
Under black currents of loss when the heart returns beat
in the last teardrop sorrow remained faithfully loved
In collaboration with The Irish Poet Liam Mc Daid
Copyright © Red Fiery | Year Posted 2016
You see us everywhere you go
Every corner of your street house our offspring
Every bridge in your city has become our refugee camp
We are the people you call peasant
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
You see us at the entrance of your estates
You see us at the gate of your beautiful companies
In search of what our mouth will feed on next
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
Our gradually fading skin
Now a sweet companion to the midnight moon and afternoon sun
We are the ones without homes
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
When bridges become forbidden by the law
We opt for uncompleted buildings
A few of us get lucky when it rains
And shield themselves under cars
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
We are the ones that beg for the remnant from your table
We are the ones life has just not been fair to
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
We are the ones that get poorer while you get richer
We are the ones that scramble for the leftover at your feast
We are the ones that fight for your used clothes
We are the peasants with pleasant rags
Copyright © Abosede Ogundare | Year Posted 2017
Fight Against The Passing Rain
Darkness falls in the middle of the day
Tears from heaven rage this way.
The storm comes fast, the wind blows gray
She’s come to take your love away.
The sun was blinding not moments ago
Smiles galore and hearts aglow.
You’d quickly stretched your Babygro
Now all is still, as time moves slow.
Time becomes a barricade,
Soon enough the rains will fade.
We’re with you, son, don’t be afraid
To rest if you cannot evade.
Our pools of love will not refrain,
My love for you, always remain.
Whilst apparatuses sustain,
Please fight against the passing rain.
20th August 2016
Copyright © Nicola Byrne | Year Posted 2016
a giant crystal wind chime spread its tone
teeth of icicles consumed a home
misted rain encased fence posts and rail
power lines succumb to winter’s weight and fail
vehicles in free style pirouettes
slide beneath the curtain call of white
taunted by the feigned applause of wind
stinging critic of a dance that will not end
children do the snow day dance of glee
parents know how long this day will be
until the child that lives within them all
makes and throws the season’s first snowball
streets await the toothbrush of the plow
snow men don old hats and carrot nose
angels in the snow cold trumpets blow
to celebrate the day everything froze
John G. Lawless
Copyright © John lawless | Year Posted 2014
The rains had come and washed away the old world,
the thunder had banged its drum
with a weary warning ---
' I do not come oft, but I return and weep
and growl a lion's roar ' ---
I will for a brief moment be as a child
and fear again...
the cracks and booms rouse my guilt,
Telemachus would say the gods were going mad...
There is something 'neath the earnest
thunder-drums which bangs
gently rolling away like a sonic carpet
Its change I welcome,
and wonder if I was afraid at all,
wonder what deathly grip may one day come ---
or love may guide me through its tumult,
and dark valleys,
with flowers blooming 'neath my faithful feet;
and though I was once afraid
like a boyhood fear ---
startled from my very boots,
I shall miss my old friend thunder,
who reminds I'm quite alive,
and survived I have,
his treacherous thunderclaps,
and his sneaky ways,
my great trickster
Copyright © Keith O.J. Hunt | Year Posted 2017
Lightning flashed, blinded my innocent, trusting eyes.
Thunder ravaged my soul, and forced out my cries.
Destructive winds threatened, ripped me all apart.
Raindrops, the tears that ever flooded my heart.
Dark clouds were ever-present, in turbulent air.
Yet, no winds could stir the flowers in my hair.
No longer waiting for that storm to pass the hill.
I left it behind, and walked away by my own will.
A rainbow shined beautifully, yet arched into a frown.
As every now and then, the rain still comes down.
I have stepped right over you, like scattered debris.
As the sun's rays now light down a new path for me.
For Shanity Rain's contest - "After The Storm"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013
Around midnight, in the library I found myself drawn,
to these shelves haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
as a rare, late October storm brews beyond the pane,
bringing life back to the creatures of Shelley and Stoker.
To these shelves, haunted still by Poe, Stevenson and King,
my fingers grasp a book from under the dust and webs,
bringing life back, to the creatures of Shelley and Stoker,
it's well-worn, leather spine just waiting to chill my own.
My fingers grasp a book, from under the dust and webs,
while autumn winds rustle leaves like crisp, yellowed paper,
it's well-worn leather spine, just waiting, to chill my own,
my head, sinking further back into the velvet-lined chair.
While autumn winds rustle, leaves like crisp, yellowed paper,
candlelight flickers dimly across the tattered old pages,
my head sinking further, back into the velvet-lined chair,
where the ghosts of Irving and Dickens will not let me sleep.
Candlelight flickers dimly, across the tattered, old pages,
I, unable to recline, with the shadows thrown by the fire,
where the ghosts, of Irving and Dickens, will not let me sleep,
residents of the dark welcome, and wait to be revisited.
I, unable to recline with the shadows, thrown by the fire,
as a rare, late October storm brews, beyond the pane,
residents of the dark, welcome and wait, to be revisited,
around midnight, in the library, I found myself... drawn.
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015
In the beginning it is just a lovely cloud
Collin comes across her in the coffee house
One of his friends calls his attention
Look, your mom is here, let’s go elsewhere
A descent of birds pecking at his brain
The cloud he keeps looking at for quite a while
The face and the figure look like his
He goes to the toilet to look into the mirror
The semblance he sees is a puzzling wonder
The birds dance and sing in tumultuous chorus
His friend confounded when he is told
Collin does not know who his mother is
He had been adopted when he was just two
The lady too looks at them off and on
When a bridge comes up none can say
The next few hours he passes in a daze
Is the quest for four years going to succeed
Is the cloud preordained for the sudden rain
Or it is just a fortuitous resemblance
But then isn’t it an exactly mirror image
Returning home Collin scrutinizes himself again
In the mirror he finds the same chiseled face
The same desirous dreamy eyes, head full of hair
He recites poems and talks to himself
Same grace radiates from the daffodils
The plant with the flowers hangs in the air
The charm and the fragrance are irresistible
He craves to rush forward and hug it tight
And flood the flower with crimson kisses
The scented air stays elusive nonetheless
Collin says everything to his adopted parents
They are very glad and cooperate to get to the truth
There would be no problem in living all together
Collin laughs and says very forcefully
The twenty two years old son is no more an introvert
When the magnet works in the very stem cells
The eventual fusion is inevitable obviously
She takes him to her apartment
She lives alone her husband dead
No shadow of children nowhere in the rooms
Thousand wasps biting inside his head
The pain is traumatic for the hidden truth
Light and dark interchange day after day
Poems of love keep churning the two hearts
Drama outside and a flood within
The day DNA test confirms the gene
The two intermingle to a river serene
August 8, 2016: For the Contest: Long Lost Family
Sponsored by Silent One
Copyright © Probir Gupta | Year Posted 2016
The gentle music flows
from every drop of rain,
as it just lightly taps
against my window pane.
The wind begins to whistle
it's own melodious song,
while the wind-chimes
dance and play along.
The soothing sounds cast open
the windows and doors.
I close my eyes and breathe.
The energy surrounds me as my spirit soars.
I hold out my hand and feel the raindrops
as if they were at play.
My breath now quickened with emotion.
I taste the rain on my lips as I embrace the glorious day.
The curtains blow inward
the breeze itself is warm,
my mind is so peaceful
in the calm before the storm.
The sky's voice trembles
from above a darkening cloud,
as the rolling thunder
speaks it's thoughts aloud.
The thunder awakens
the flash of light.
The part of nature
that sends some to flight.
I chose to embrace the power of nature
in the earth and sky.
And bask in the wonder
that fills my eyes.
The rain seems to be letting up
as it puddles on the green grass,
and the once powerful winds
are now calming down at last.
The gray clouds are parting
and a bright rainbow forms,
proving that something beautiful
can come from such dangerous storms.
My eyes close and I breathe
in the scent of the cleansing rain.
The brilliant hues of the rainbow
dance in my mind where I feel no pain.
The sun peaks from behind the clouds
just to say hi.
I feel the warmth against my face
as I view the beauty with a sigh.
Written by: Kelly Deschler & Nature Boy
For Jared Pickett's contest - "Collaboration"
Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014
Call it what you want!
I call it, his favorite season hunt...
Two hoofs imprinted near the riverfront.
Echoes calling my soul with a loud, ferocious grunt.
I smell it in the air, lost upon the white golden stair.
A deep frost dwelling all over his lair.
Tangled by the frozen grip of my hair.
A decision, I declare to give what he won't spare.
This man has no red suit..
Lurking in the white to recruit.
A midnight suicide clouding me with pollute.
I pause my tongue on mute, lost in a white castle chute.
Headed straight into a shivering blazing star path.
The land of snow covered like a bubble bath.
Breaking icicles like crystal glass, suck3d by the milky-way mass.
Multiplying bruises like a cascade, enjoying the aftermath.
Finding a way to slit the pain in my domain.
I grab a coat and lace my name to Mary-Jane.
Inserting the finest line to ease the drain in my brain.
I drink the icy scotch, and drop a silver nickel into the devils cocaine.
Fallen in to his bait, its too late, I got 7 lines on my dinner plate.
I'm covered up in snow, enjoying the amazing way to suffocate.
Eight beats to every minute is my new heart rate.
I'm reaching for the white golden gate, where the white devil waits.
Drowning like liquor in a frappe mixing the winter's high tide.
Death to my soul is where I hide under this white blanket neutral side.
Too heavy to uplift this storm lost in the devil's cold custard suicide guide.
Waking up in a coma, in a world where white collides with the rage of suicide.
(( Trapped in a snowy blizzard))
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010
lightning punching down,
fast, blinding, loud – blood pain
a prayer of tears
to all who have suffered violence
Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014
In a whirlwind two friends started to quarrel over nothing
By the end of a long day it became something.
Fists, kicks, bricks and insults were in the heat,
The two friends were reluctant to accept defeat.
In the storm the fight came from nowhere,
But it was surely heading somewhere.
The two couldn’t see eye to eye for a resolution
And failed to reach for a solution.
Like lightning the dispute came in a flash
Their ship called friend went into a crash
They encountered a hardship in a fume
Saw no need to keep their friendship that was in a flame.
Within the flood the argument flowed to separate
Their much needed means to tolerate.
Their feelings were broken into shattered piece
That they could not assemble into one peace.
Copyright © Mpho Kgaswane | Year Posted 2016
The wind blows – quick, hard, fast – the hot stillness is broken
Corn stalks weave wildly as the wind marches through it rows
Dust rises to greet this invading storm
Large drops of heavy rain hit with a thud
Lightening electrifies and paints the blacking sky
Hail rips leaves from their home – a hard crack of thunder
Clouds tumbling, rolling, forming into a funnel
A loud rushing noise – a banshee scream
Trees snap, the wind-train thunders by . . . then a deep silence
Holding hands they arise from underground
Sky clearing, sun peeking through
A double rainbow appears – a promise – life . . . love
The night is cold and wet, slick over bridges curving edge
The rain freezes turning sheets of ice into nature’s sculpture
Electrical power lines coated thick -- snap, taking heat away from all
Nights of darkness with candles are filled with hearts of hope
Ice storms that cripple a city and put a halt on activities
As beautiful as they are terrifying, they demand a reckoning
When January blows out fierce and February is held captive
Our human spirit tired and cold but not beaten
Prays for warmer days ahead with confidence
Nights of hearths and man made fires
Fur lined slippers and flannel robes
Better off indoors, with close kin . . . warmed with hope and love
Written in collaboration with Mystic Rose
Beautiful is the friendship of a Mystic Rose . . . sweet and warm
Copyright © David Meade | Year Posted 2014
In an open field of endless, noiseless distance,
Rolling clouds cast an impending gloom;
A welcomed and promised darkness descends.
My eyes shut as I breathe in the aroma,
In anticipation of
The cleansing that quickly approaches.
I cloak myself in the breeze, as it promises a release..
The cool wind, calming, so gently serene...
Sweeping over my overheated skin.
Finally, the fury is perfectly unleashed down upon me.
The winds, gusting in a frenzied rush
My hair whipping haphazardly around,
Stinging at my face.
I smirk toward the sky, as I silently, but eagerly
Await the onslaught -
This desperate release that I longed for in secret.
It sought me out, and found me.
I hear the angry sounds
The roaring, begging to weep alongside me.
When suddenly, the violent tears begin to fall
With a sudden, breathtaking destructiveness.
The thunder, like me, cries out in pain,
With such sadness, angry liquid bathing the parched earth.
It saturates my face, my body drenched.
As I stand in the midst of the deluge, in awe,
Crashing winds attempt to destroy me,
But cannot find the strength.
Until the tears eventually run dry,
The painful clashes and cries become silent..
The skies yield to light, as the great and
Terrible sun demands to be seen.
I open my tear-stained eyes,
And glimpse a different world before me...
Cleansed and made new.
And I cannot understand, nor
Fathom the reality...
Of the beautifully, perfect
Copyright © Shirlee Rincon | Year Posted 2014
The lighthouse stands, the lighthouse stands
Above the foaming wave,
Above the sands.
He stands so brave, he stands so brave,
As winds against him blow;
The ships to save.
He sends below, he sends below
His fiery, gleaming light,
The way to show.
All through the night, all through the night
He guards the lonely point
With torches bright.
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2014
My weeping eyes behold the changing sky
O'erspread with clouds of grey where once was blue
With gaze upturned, I heave a burdened sigh
At all the world now changed to leaden hue
Yet still they onward, ever onward fly
And more appear to change the sky anew
And now, as troubled hearts their sorrows spill
These maudlin clouds the heavy rain distill
The sun obscured in shame, he hides his face
And lightning lights instead the cheerless gloom
While thunder follows swift in furious chase
As if to herald thoughts of coming doom
And still, the rain descends at hurried pace
As if the earth in water to entomb
It seems belike this storm would rage for aye
And all the earth would never chance to dry
But lo! The setting sun that once was veiled!
Draws nigh to show his grandeur forth below
He shines his beams abroad the clouds to gild
And sparks the drops as diamonds all aglow
Mid pools of sapphire blue the sky is filled
With vibrant coloured shades of heaven's bow
What eye could see and not revive its fire?
Nor mind behold and not its thoughts inspire?
Copyright © Isaiah Zerbst | Year Posted 2013
I drift as storm and night duet,
a dance amidst a choir of rain.
wrung clouds strum strong and passionate
to cart away my deepest pain.
In every grand, thunderous note,
God’s loving heart beats in my soul.
Across the darkness, lightning floats,
to heaven skyward, I extol.
Winds sing with love blown rhythmically
just like sweet-sounding nightingales.
Clear sheets of rain course through lithe trees
bending to meet the river dale.
Then soft comes dawn, I praise the storm
in gleam of misty earth transformed.
For Shadow's Pick A Subject Contest, 3/4/15
*Subject - Storm
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
Drenching rains, no shape nor form
Howling winds, skies midnight black
Lightning striking, a powerful storm
Our little haven, now under attack
Plans for our moonlit stroll are dashed
No lights, no music, just you and me
Squeezing me tighter with every flash
Letting our two longing hearts be free
Waiting out the storm, we cuddle by the fire
Enjoying the crackling embers until it's done
Soft touches, slow kisses, both showing desire
Two kindred spirits, coming together as one
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014
Feet not up yet dreaming looking into the deep distant horizon screams
need to take turf in remembering howls across oceans mourning dream special wish
You would want a good fire tonight for sure ice stormy fierce cold cutting
out walking giant waves hitting of the shore thundering pounds lashing clash
Today the wind fairly woke me up piercing wide eye opening vision
Then when I got home just felt ten years younger alive again one storm
Now that's a good omen laughing to myself carries one to the high Heavens
Must be the salted spray love mixed with sea mist smashes you to the ground love
New therapy go out to the sea front as gales howling with angry force break news
blowing giant waves crashing heavy of cliffs thundering roars echoes inside sad
Wind spitting sea salt sand peppering the face in your hardened heart
hate remains your driving engine unforgiving hung up on the past
Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015