The Storm

 

Oh storm, oh beautiful storm.

Thy clouds are bleak and dark as the night.

Thy winds are frigid freezing cold that carry the nurturance of the water’s needed for the plants, rivers and oceans.

Yet the storm can cause natural disasters that can destroy life.

Yet the storm left with a beautiful rainbow in the sky.

I look at it and wonder if there’s a pot-of-gold at the end.

 

So I follow it to the end and to my utter most delight there stands a handsome man with the grayest eyes as gray as the storm itself.

His voice as deep as the sound of thunder as clear as the sky above after that storm.

His body as white as a bolt of lightning.

His hands are as warm as a gentle bath but the heat from those hands are as hot as a fire-scorched tree.

Oh storm, oh beautiful storm that brought the ideal man to me.


 


Comments:
 
StarPoet   StarPoet wrote
on 5/19/2009 12:19:10 AM
I like this a lot for it's element of nature. And it makes it's message so simply to me. Very good! Also have a look at my poem "Thunderstorm Love" which has a storm element to it as well.

frederic   frederic wrote
on 5/18/2009 9:34:08 AM
This is a fine expression of your specific perception of a storm. You enjoy watching it, and it brings you a "beautiful man." You're saying that out of hard times, I can find an ideal man. To comfort you? To be your friend? We have to connect the two angles in this poem: the storm imagery and the finding of an ideal man out of it. Good poetry. Also, pleased to make your acquaintance.

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Synopsis
a poem about how I was feeling at the time of a thunder storm
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