I love thunderstorms. If it were practical, I would sit outside in the middle of one. I just love the sound and the smell of the rain, especially just as it starts to fall, and the low rumble of thunder. Lightning flashes constantly leave me in awe at the power of nature. This poem was born from sitting beside an open window as the first thunderstorm of the season approached. I listened to the sound of the raindrops hitting the pavement or splashing into puddles and tried to capture my love for thunderstorms in words. Enjoy! Comments are always welcome.
April
Storm
The sharp scent of dampened dust
Preludes, from all else distinct.
The first sight glistens just
Like silvered dimes on concrete.
Then is heard a splashing gust,
Friendly patter, cold and sweet.
Then comes the crack!
Thunder grates a mighty roar
As lightning splits the sky.
Locked windows rain detains,
Storm seems to never end.
No one outside.
Flickering bright.
Huddled inside.
There will be no rest tonight.
