soft, warm, grey wool drawn across the skies, <br />a comforter that morning snuggled under, <br />snoring low, while waiting for sunrise; <br />horizons westward billowing with thunder. <br /> <br />songbirds held their tongues and every tree <br />in granite stillness stood, while nearby ocean <br />rose in swells. and creatures such as we <br />held our breath awaiting the commotion <br /> <br />of storm; that pausing for affect, delayed <br />for hours. 'til at last when rain descended, <br />with threatened wind and fury full displayed, <br />the languid calm of morning finally ended. <br /> <br />trees, once statues, samurais became <br />with flashing broadswords slashing clouds asunder. <br />while frenzied waves of ocean's armies came <br />with awesome force against the shore to plunder. <br /> <br />the former calm of morning lost from sight; <br />the afternoon and crescent moon were haunted <br />by storm whose passions lasted into night, <br />'til stars and dreams returned again, undaunted. <br /> <br />when brand-new dawn came on to pale the skies <br />with promises of sun and warmer weather, <br />mistaken forecasts turn to alibis, <br />as songbirds played amongst the gorse and heather.<br /><br />moon batchelder<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/stormy-morning/
