Then rose the mighty cusp of the storm.

Jagged black edges overcame white
and clouds begat
dark gigantic height after height
as blue, frightened away,
dissolved into rivalling grey and rain
threatened its splatter.

Came the great clap then began Dancing.

Two forked arrows of garnet-fire-clash,
sky-wide flamenco
cavorted before me, a tree cracked as
it gasped in last breath
and echoed by more thunder-applause
I for dry ran homeward.

Four-walled protection inspired my pen.

Storm then began shaping all over again.