Stormy Morning Poem by moon batchelder

soft, warm, grey wool drawn across the skies,
a comforter that morning snuggled under,
snoring low, while waiting for sunrise;
horizons westward billowing with thunder.

songbirds held their tongues and every tree
in granite stillness stood, while nearby ocean
rose in swells. and creatures such as we
held our breath awaiting the commotion

of storm; that pausing for affect, delayed
for hours. 'til at last when rain descended,
with threatened wind and fury full displayed,
the languid calm of morning finally ended.

trees, once statues, samurais became
with flashing broadswords slashing clouds asunder.
while frenzied waves of ocean's armies came
with awesome force against the shore to plunder.

the former calm of morning lost from sight;
the afternoon and crescent moon were haunted
by storm whose passions lasted into night,
'til stars and dreams returned again, undaunted.

when brand-new dawn came on to pale the skies
with promises of sun and warmer weather,
mistaken forecasts turn to alibis,
as songbirds played amongst the gorse and heather.