Poetry Thursday–Storm Theme

Hello, I bet you’re all wondering why I gathered you here today.

Wait, you came here by yourselves?

Okay, never mind.

Anyways, for this Poetry Thursday (I still haven’t figured out any alliteration that I can use to make it sound more catchy, but one day I will have an epiphany) I have a storm theme.  I strongly advocate for drawing inspiration from the world around you, and since I am one of those people that takes their own advice (*gasp!* they do exist) I wrote an obnoxious amount of poetry on storms, as it has been storming where I live almost all day.  After a cup of sugar with coffee and cream, I was inspired enough to create all of these following gems:

 

 

Dragon of Storms

 

When I was younger,

I met a dragon made of storms.

With his gravelly voice composed of thunder,

He told me about his dismal existence

Of solitude in the skies.

I watched his eyes flash with lightning

As he bagged against weather reports.

The colors of his dark, dreary, charcoal scales shifted,

Showing patterns of cloud movement.

As he spoke of storms and destruction,

His wings beat breeze into gusts.

Tears fell from his lightning eyes

In regret from his destructive nature.

Those tears became the rain,

And as I studied this dragon of storms,

Life sprang up at his feet.

Grass, crops, flowers, tree saplings.

I tried to show the dragon

The life behind his destruction,

But he could not see the life within himself,

For he was too distracted by the storm.

 

 

Rain Song

 

The rain continues falling,

Drumming on tin roofing

Singing its song of sorts,

Acting out in rebellion

Against today’s weather forecast.

 

 

 

As The Storm Rages On,

 

A sudden gust of well-aimed wind

Causes the aging house to creak in protest.

Deafening lightning flashes brightly.

Blinding thunder booms,

Bombarding the static filled atmosphere.

The sound of nature’s lullaby

Takes on a dangerous chord of dissonance

Frightening the swaying trees

Into curling up their leaves toward heaven.

An act of begging mercy

From Mother Nature herself.

Meanwhile she waits

While holding her breath,

For the storm to finish brewing.

 

 

I’ve Noticed

 

Storms feel like power

More often than anger.

There seems to be a victorious sort of joy

In the booming thunder,

A maniac spark lies within lightning.

Plants rejoice in the falling rain,

Perking up, facing leaves to the sky

In response to nature’s battle cry.

 

 

 

Warmth in the Cold

 

Raindrops are colder

Than the wind,

But the rejuvenation

Of Nature

After a long winter

Makes the cold

Just a little bit warmer.

 

 

 

Opportunity in Storms

 

Sometimes I think

Storms get a bad rap.

Some find them scary,

Others find them ominous,

But I think storms

Are more of a sign.

Loud, flashing destruction

Brings life back to wilting plants.

People never seem to notice

When life provides them

With the same opportunity.

 

 

There were actually a lot more storm-themed that I wrote today in my sugar-ed up, caffeinated state, but I only kept the ones that I liked for your enjoyment.

Thank you for your attention.

Please return next week for more superb writing to distract you from the drudgery of politics and the concept of last thursdayism.

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