Least Read Poems About Storms

Staring outside,
At the grey sky.
Full of clouds
Of thunder
and lightning.
I tried to imagine,
What it would be like
To be your storm.

I would wake you up every night,
By the sound of my winds knocking on your door.
Each footprint of my waters
Can be seen dripping on the floor.
When i asked for a little space
To bring you into my shower
Oh...how your soul got lost into my power.
How the rumbles are intensely quiet,
When you perform the act of forecasting the speed of the wind amid my eyeball.
How...

Sun shiny golden
Days brightness turning to snow
Storms havoc creates.

February flies
Into Marches windy wishes
For Springs returning.

For now nature brims
Baleful ice frosted mornings
Magic by arctic.

When storms do break and heavens weep
The cathedral spire wakes from sleep
A shadowed lance, it cleaves the rain
A hymn in stone through joy and pain

The clouds, like mourners, gather close
Their veils of grey a most solemn host
And through their tears a fleeting gleam
The spire ascends, a holy dream

Each droplet strikes with fleeting grace
A silver path on sacred face
And shadows twist in trembling flight
As rain and dark in union write

The gargoyles grin, their visages stark
In interplay of light and dark ...

old bloke in the bar says
I can’t go home in this weather, not with
my chest and this cough
but the publican replies

sorry mate, we’re closing
up and you can’t stay here all night
aye, says the old bloke, it’s
a conundrum, right enough   ..