PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Thick air weighs heavy on the breast
ominously waiting.
The sea lies motionless, at rest,
stilled its agitating.
But over where the blue and green
sink one into the other
a tiny grey-black cloud is seen,
soon coupled with another.

Fast approaching, dark and grim,
the stormy cloud increases,
amassing now with rumbling hymn
its water laden fleeces.
Thor throws his challenge to the sun
and shoots his fiery arrows.
Thick the pregnant vapour's spun
and fast the sapphire narrows.

The wind is startled from his doze
and springs up swift in fright.
In rage at being woken, blows
and whips with all his might.
The billows close, erase the blue
and glare with baneful eye
as the thunder and the wind in feud
do battle in the sky.

The heavens flash with ragged rage,
wrathful tempests wail
releasing droplets from their cage
to hurl them through the gale.
The monster slumbering in the deep
begins to heave and strain.
He thrashes from his brooding sleep
tossing spray to catch the rain.

The sky, criss-crossed by jagged rays,
is all but torn asunder.
Trees vibrate with violent sways
as though fearful of the thunder.
Grasses bow as a heathen will
to an idol god inclines.
Around the cliffs and paths and hill
the wild wind wailing whines.

These elements pitch fierce war
till their energy outplay.
Too weary now to struggle more
they retreat then from the fray.
Large puddles of collected rain,
arched rainbow's glowing form,
these evidences still remain
of the violent thunderstorm.