Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2013
I can hear the song of thunder,
The pounding in my viens,
A heart to heart encounter,
An exchange with no need of names.
The water pouring from the heavens high,
A open heart to the rushing rains,
Slipping away in powerful tides,
These eyelids are just the window frames.
Wrote this during a HUGE thunder storm.
Natalie Wood
Written by
Natalie Wood  Maine, USA
(Maine, USA)   
489
   Weeping willow
Please log in to view and add comments on poems