Billowing figures form in the sky
creating one of nature’s wonders.
My eyes flick to the left;
an attempt to catch a glimpse
of what my mind knows is gone.
Next time…
Next time I will be ready and waiting
to see those bright threads shoot
across that wicked sky.
So wicked that one strike
can force a man to collapse
with little chance of survival.
Then there’s thunder.
So strong it causes an arrhythmia
with each clasp as if God
were swearing at the fallen inhabitants of Earth,
sending them into exile.
I used to fear such storms,
but…
Mother always said Never
judge a book by its cover.
Like Quasimodo,
the hunchback with a “heart of gold.”
I’ve gotten past their frightening façade.
Lightning is an artists painting in the sky,
painting me something new every time.
Like magic, it turns night into day,
if only for a few seconds.
It’s a wonder of the world
I can view from my own backyard.
I pray God I never
be deaf nor blind.
A contest entry
- Love Me, Hate Me, Love Nature, Love yourself. by sluha.
530 points, ended April 20, 2007, 14 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
I must say that when you said "Like Quasimodo" that just made me smile... I wasn't expecting something like that... which was good... but yeah I also like "Lightning is an artists painting in the sky" which was really a great line... because well... its true... I must admit I do too love storms... I find them very interesting and cool... my mother on the other hand is terrified of them... she says something like "Thunder is the power of the lord" or something like that... but yeah anyways great work... thank you for a wonderful entrie and good luck in the contest
Adding your comment:
