Thunder Storm to Woodland Nook …
Softly he whispered her name,
a thunder storm was building in the distance,
she awoke and held out her arms to him,
the air began heating up, storm coming closer,
as tension built like passions of lovers,
came the thunder storm to woodland nook.
Slowly thunder rolled in,
like waves upon a peaceful sea,
gently carressing sands of time,
each touch of wave almost unbearable,
stirring up layers deeper, ever deeper,
friction giving rise to the heat,
sounds of thunder louder as if the sea
became turbulent, sending waves more urgently,
one after another, building up to a pulsing crescendo.
Clouds gathering, almost unable to hold back the coming rains,
an agonizing wait for release to burst forth,
a lightening bolt shouts out in the storm’s climax,
another calls out in unison,
as the rains come to sate the tension.
Cooling rains bring calmness to spent energy,
as lovers lay entwined as one,
sheltered in joyful bliss and eternal love,
in wake of the storm.
© 2019 Phyllis Doyle Burns