Hear the thunder, in cold, dark skies, <br />temper rising as he curses at nothing and everything. <br /> <br />(We hear you. We really do.) <br /> <br />The grayish clouds huddle together, terrified, <br />Their father, blackfaced and furious, screams silently <br /> <br />(for he can make no noise) . <br /> <br />The sun shies away, she can say no more <br />She refuses to shine for such uncouth tantrum-throwers. <br /> <br />(The grey clouds usher her away, embarrassed by their father’s outbursts.) <br /> <br />The wind rages against the cloud-children <br />And the stray feathered creature <br /> <br />(that flutters and flies against her in vain) . <br /> <br />Amidst such weatherly chaos, <br />The Rain has not fallen. <br /> <br />(and when she does I shall run beneath her and dance and dance and dance.)<br /><br />Perfection Is Flawed<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bad-weather/
