Copyright Robert Lewis 2003 Worldwide All rights reserved
This poem may not be copied by any means without permision of the author
The Storm
In grey skies above
Darkened clouds appear
A storm approaching
So very near
A clap of thunder
Such a turbulent sound
Forks of lightening
Hit the ground
As an orchestra playing
Pounding on timpani drums
Thunders resonant roar
The storm it comes
Like a conductor's baton
Trees sway, from side to side
The storm now upon us
With no place to hide