Edmund V. Strolis


Heavy Weather- A Tale Of A Summer Storm - Poem by Edmund V. Strolis

A Tale Of A Summer Storm

It had been one of those steamy days
A real blazer right from the first rays
And true to form it feasted on green
Turning lawns to brown, growing mean
Not a cloud to be seen, no stir in the air
A pan fried day for all the people down there
Then came a murmur from miles away
Somehow, somewhere, something was stirring
Seemingly impossible on that summers day
Birds in retreat knew something was brewing
A change in the air a cool breeze made its way
A messenger a warning of a purple eruption
Devouring the heat as it fed on the day
A pickup truck tale for future generations
Wild circles were torn by horses aware
Their nostrils flaring, a stare in their eyes
Ancestral blood warned of something out there
A stampeding frenzy with nowhere to hide
A rumble then shook the last bird from a tree
Black horizon, master of a phantom sundown
Angry flashes and armies of rain were set free
Devouring the canvas of all that it found.

Topic(s) of this poem: nature, storm


Comments about Heavy Weather- A Tale Of A Summer Storm by Edmund V. Strolis

  • Glen KappyGlen Kappy (7/6/2017 7:49:00 AM)

    a pan fried day- cool image! i relate.

    here, where it's typically dry, we have days where walking out in mid-day feels like opening a hot-oven door.
    and rain is precious- in an average year we get 8 or 9 inches of rain- which is why i have three prayers for rain.

    on the sense of a storm brewing, i have two- overcast and huge dark clouds.

    glen
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  • Norah TunneyNorah Tunney (6/29/2017 11:09:00 PM)

    I love the build up to this poem and the calm before the storm.It reminded me of life when everything is going smoothly and life is peaceful and calm and all of a sudden one is hit by some unexpected news and the horizon blackens for awhile.But fortunately like bad weather it too passes. Thanks Edmund (Report)Reply

    Edmund StrolisEdmund Strolis(6/30/2017 8:26:00 PM)

    I think the poem was a bit winded. Pun intended. Still I like to ponder the sheer ferocity of nature's grand performance. Funny thing about words how they can be assembled and introduced in some form we loosely call poetry and hold many meanings. Yes the worst of all storms always pass. Such is the nature of this bizarre spectacle, ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Poem Edited: Tuesday, June 27, 2017


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