Swan in a lake in a June thunderstorm

The thunder sounds breaks the silence of the undulated Summer son,
All around the pond the green and yellow plants begin to rustle,
gosling's begin to speed up as they glide across the shimmering shining lake,
A white swan shakes head, trails of the fresh water fly away from a yellow beak,

Like frills of the swans Bill the heavens began to shake, crash, the reflective light,
blue quickly turned to grey and the ducks began to make their way to the lovers,
black swan paddled silently and turned her head to the heavens, mouthful of fish,
The silence of swans made a man hungry, the quacking of the ducks made peace.

The heavens opened - rain began to bucket down from sunny sun to heavy rain,
The pond became awash with new water, the birds swirled this water around
with their feet like a filter does a fish tank, and the plants around the pond,
became a bright green, a mossy consistency uninfected by the grey sky.

The black swan and its brylcreem texture deflected the tiny droplets,
The white swans looked upon each other with baby lotion movement,
The hot shower of rain splashed and made contours on the ponds surface,
like a bucket of rippled Dulux paint.

Lightening strikes c-crash, a triple forked warning this wasn't going to last for long,
Soon despite the soaking the sun would be back again, soon the month of June,
would return again like a father does when returning from being away on business,
And the swans that struck up conversations around that pool in June before the storm