When thunderstorms come out to play,
And lightning o'er this earth is seen,
Dense clouds descend in colours grey,
And rain pours forth, where sun has been.
When crescendos resound in humid air,
And exacerbate our troubled sky,
Will all the power residing there,
Look kindly down from portals high.
Such danger lurks in flashes bright,
Splitting the heavens so mercilessly,
But what an amazing glorious sight,
Portrayed here in all its ferocity.
© Ernestine Northover
You have constructed a (another) relaxing yet disturbing and finely written piece here.
ERNESTINE...A PARAXYSM OF FLUXED IMAGERY PAINTS THIS PICTORIAL POEM SOLID GOLD...YOUR GIFT FOR THE SILENT WORD, IS EFFULGENT! FRANK/FJR
The sheer energy released as we watch in amazement, this is awesome, and told so well love Duncan x
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderful stormy picture painted here Ernestine, majestic flow and perfectly structured. Love, Andrew xx