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The sound of wind bounces against my bedroom window,
and the roar of thunder soon follows,
but despite all that noise,
all I can focus on is you.

Gazing down into those gentle green eyes,
I know that I'll never want anything else.
I could see everything through you,
and the softness in your look
is enough to never let go.
This was written May 23rd, 2022; posting my drafts today lol
am i ee May 5
i love
springtime
rain.

Huge thunderstorm
came through
here
last night.  

Bright flashes of
lightening,
torrential downpour
cascading down.

Raindrops
batterting
Mother Earth's
thirsty ground.


Puppyhead did not
love it
like i.

She took herself
off to her stair.

The thunder booming
and
shaking,

My poor puppyhead
laid trembling there.

Unable to comfort
her,
to make her understand
how wonderful
this storm is.

Perhaps she feels
something
deeper than me?

More power,
more energy
of
that storm
raging there?





I think I feel a poem coming on...
Many thanks this early morn to Lori Jones McCaffery snd her Perfect triolet DOWNPOUR
thought i felt a poem coming on reading hers...
Deeee Apr 22
If all you'd known
Your whole life
Was dark clouds
Icy rain
And violent wind

If all you'd seen
Your whole life
Was grey skies
Dull days
And cold nights

And then
Like magic

A crack appears in the sky
A light seeps through the clouds
A warmth touches my skin
softly, like a blanket
slowly, like an ember
surely, like it was meant for me

Like the sun burns in the initials of my name
Like the heatwaves sing songs of my name
Like the power of it all courses through my veins
Like the purpose of its creation was all in my name

And then
Imagine

hearing thunder again.
lua Feb 14
i can feel his words
like water
on my skin
dripping between my fingers

i feel them sway
and ripple when i touch
yet pouring into my bloodstream
my soul

he's thunderous
electrifying
zapping me with emotions
i never knew the names of

his movements are a breath of fresh air
carrying whispers in the breeze

and yet he packs his things
and leaves with the seasons.
Anais Vionet Dec 2021
Moonlight through a quilt of clouds
we rush before the storm
lightning, like a camera flashed
as we made it to the dorm

We shiver as we rush the stairs
to the thunderous afterboom
I survey the nights assignments
when I’m safe inside my room

We’d planned for this foul weather,
and our tempest borne confinement
by stopping for some chinese food
- it was practically a requirement.
JKirin Dec 2021
Have you seen the wolves in the sky?
There are pups at play, hear their howls?
Clashes of claws? Thunderous growls?
Through the clouds they run side by side.
They are the storm you hear outside.
about thunderstorms
JKirin Nov 2021
A god of the skies—you're lightning!
words pour—they're rain— as you're writing.
Every line, like a thunder,
fills your readers with wonder.
Keystrokes—flashing light
You were born to write.
about writing
Mark Wanless Oct 2021
the dog keeps barking in the rain
and i am sitting next to him

listening to strong plea for life
and plaintiff yelping to end strife

as thunder rolls along i see
all destiny is death
Mark Wanless Oct 2021
i wander wonder thrive and plunder
steal **** expel in thunder
the i i am am manifest god
Coleen Mzarriz Oct 2021
She has freckles like little eyes boring a hole into your soul when she looks at you. She has a face as clear as crystal that when you look at her, you can see your own reflection—mirrorless, empty, and reserved. When you press your lips against hers, a flood of poisonous schemes awaits you, and you'll be lost like Alice in Wonderland.

She's an important chess piece that cannot be easily moved; she's a queen, the ace, the king. A pawn may capture a queen, but she is also the king. Her throne reeks of gold and fortune, her mind flows with wisdom, and her body's attached like the goddess Aphrodite. She's the thunder in the rain. Her cries are a woe of revenge and power. Death can not capture a woman like her. She's Eve and she's Lilith. She's a spirit and she can be a snake—crawling with her reptile skin. Her eyes are as fierce shaped as the diamond's emerald and lastly, she's macabre surrealism that when you read her, her true self shows and pushes you to infinite possible dreams you can dream of. 

Avary is the bird of thunder. In her cage, she's a young soul duplicated to bring misfortune every time it rains in the spring of Casmorville.
Women, regain your power. :)
Casmor is actually a place. I just added the "ville" so it makes more sense. And oh, I wrote this while there was a big typhoon last July.
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