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 |