Tuesday, January 31, 2017

"Storms"


As the storm approaches land the silence starkly looms
Darkness overcomes the day like empty, paneless rooms
The wind picks up, the waves rush on, the  shore becomes a foam
The sense is of the wolves that run, along the crest they roam
The thunder rocks the cliffs of life, the lightning shatters dreams
The past seems but a memory, upon horizon gleams
The storm will pass as all storms do
A moment's hap, no need to rue
The rain comes pouring down

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© 2014 whickwithy


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