Storm’s Comin

You can smell it in the air
Almost taste it
A solid gray horizon
Dark clouds
Trip Hastily
Across the sky

Orange streaks
Peek through rents
In the  fabric
Storm’s comin

Restless dinghy’s
Rock nervously
In anticipation

Rolling thunder
Whispers in the distance
Lightning flickers
Revealing it’s presence

The breeze stiffens
Escalating the scent of rain
Ripples in the lake
Run further up the sand
Seeking refuge

Urgent raindrops
Sting my face
Falling as do arrows
From the bow

Wind whipped rain
Pounces on the water
The tethered dinghy’s
Struggle to be free

It’s here

About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in Beauty, Free Verse, Inspirational, Nature, Poetry, Rain and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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