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There comes a hush with grumbling, rumbling sound—
Through skies, from highest clouds of charcoal gray,
While forest drapes like maiden's debut gown,
On swelling winds—a taste of dampened hay,
As jasmines shiver, full of haste and play,
The buttercups then blend in bluebell fields,
While parched earth, in thirst, to heavens pray,
The water lilies bloom, and lotus shield,  
While gardenia and tuberose nectar yield.

Those armored hermits peek above, so sly,
While wrigglers writhe from homes beneath the ground,
And quiet buzzards—silent shelters seek,
The red and tiny soldiers surround
Their hill before the floods come crashing down.
There goes the sun to hide behind the clouds,
Like shyest child behind her mother's gown.
The clouds eclipse the sky like mountain's shroud,
How I have waited long—for petrichor, thy crown!

The first then falls—so delicate this drop,
Like chiming choir of creation, its fall,
So, earth then sighs its prayer in backdrop.
Like divine dance of Lord from heaven's ball,
To fill the world as seraph's colours, fall.
The peacocks twirl in iridescent trance,
While swallows dive and egrets skim and roll.
Like scattered jewels, shooting down to prance,
The first of vernal rain bestows a second chance.

At drip-a-drop they form a symphony—
Like rolling sheets of highest paradise
Conjoined the deepest hells invisibly.
For once, then twice, and lastly falling thrice
In festive thrum of fervent drums, they rise.
Like sapphires falling down from onyx sheets
Of darkened skies, so measureless in price.
The merchant clouds to earthly rivers greet
And ply the blue and pearly wares from angel's fleet

Like clouds, the puddles spread across the land,
The sky's reflection cast upon the earth,
These puddles overflow as bubbling bands
And streams like argent ribbons, gurgling mirth
That stitch themselves from flash of thunder's lurch,
Like melting hymns upon the mount and vales,
And washing tales from stones about the dearth.
Then sleeping beasts so churn across the dales,
Like witches' inky cauldron full of silent wails.
Sorry for the break guys, was working on a side project and was burnt out.
There's no promise of love,
I was lucky to find it.
Nothing says there will be someone there,
For you to hold or be held by,
When the storm rolls in.
A very few get to know,
Just how it feels,
To embrace your lover.
Carefully placing your hand on their face,
Love isn't promised,
Possibly it may never come,
So I am lucky to have it now.
It's rare for it to be true
fish-sama Mar 20
Your pupils shrink,
then expand,
Boundless void at the brink of consuming
crystals of storm. I withdraw my hand
From above the cyclone: the void disappears,
the sunbeams refract, my
cerebral processes falling
short.
For my best friend, shroomlin shroomster
Linden Lark Mar 18
My girl is made from fire and stardust.
She feels like a child of the wind and the rain,
Her wrath—an unprecedented hurricane.
But love her, speak sweet words to her,
And she is the cool breeze on an extra hot day,
The reason you feel like it might be bearable to go out and play.
She’s a light spring shower,
Covering the earth with blooms,
Bringing it all back to life.

Oh, but don’t you dare stand in her way—
She is divine feminine rage.
The storms before—I swallowed them whole,
And now I’m beginning to see
That maybe all of that was to make sure
She had an unshakable roar.
And oh, is it beautiful to see
That no one will stand in her way.

Her words spill like lava,
As steadfast as a bull,
Yet her heart is still so full.
Sweeter than honey—
Until you challenge her storm,
Until you test her form.

And if you do, just know—
I’ll pray
For you
To make it out alive.
Because you see, my girl is made of stardust and fire—
Two untamable things,
Two forces together, unchained,
Burning, rising—
Unshaken, unbound,
Stretching far above and below the ground.

So think twice before you stand at her door,
If you wish  to endure the unfazed wrath
Of all the women who came before.
She is the storm, the flame, the roar—
A force the world will soon learn
Can never be ignored.
A little poem about my daughter.  I would love to know your thoughts and opinions thank you for reading
If there's rain in the sky,
Thunder in the clouds,
The we will take our two feet,
A run through these grounds.

If the fields are drenched,
Then let them be,
Wheat will sprout bountiful,
From the fresh water tears of the sky.

They will hear our feet pounding,
Louder than thunder,
Greater than the storm,
Tiocfaidh ár lá!
Happy St. Paddy's day!
Clear the way!
Can't you feel the rain?
It is soft now,
But it bares its bite.
Clear this road so the carriage men may run,
Gather your families, be ready to leave.
Here it comes,
The storm! Can't you see?
Don't you feel these winds ripping up this land,
Get away while you can,
Or die with the land.
Inspired by the sudden windstorm last night
Traveler Mar 14
There’s a storm blowing cold tonight
There’s a tormenting whisper in the wind
My sword is useless in this fight
There’s a battle waged within

**** the demons, **** this flight
**** this soul within
**** what’s wrong, **** what’s right
**** the righteous sin

This storm has blown through me before
Red my eyes do see
Exiled to the killing floor
Wasted upon my knees
Traveler Tim
I wrote this in 1995.
That was a hell of a storm!
Ian K Mar 10
The urge came.
Desire filled my breast
and before I knew it
I was flung from one corner to the next,
a branch iced over and shivering
as the tempest of want threatened
to shear me from my past,
to break me.

The urge left me
yearning to be carried away
to a place far removed
from these safe harbors;
over lands where I knew no names
and had no kin,
To a place unfamiliar,
but where the breath of God filled the air
and made sweet the prospect of new beginnings.
If they let me,
I will lead,
I will carry this torch,
Through the storm and flood.

For if not for poetry,
I would be one with none,
This art is a language,
We must carry on.
I selfishly believe I am an answer to the concerns of those elder poets who need a great mind to pass on this art to. If it turns out I am not ready for that honor, I will work to be,
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