The Storm - Poem by Angela Wybrow
The tall trees angrily toss their heads.
Many leaves, they rapidly now shed.
The boughs of the trees sway and creak and groan
In the strong wind, as it continues to loudly moan.
Twigs and branches lie broken on the ground.
Fruit, berries and seeds are also now downed.
The wind continues to lose all control and roar,
Leaving folk wondering what damage is in store.
Everyone’s hair is looking completely windswept.
Today, nobody’s normally tidy hair is smartly kept.
The sound of the wind rushes past my ears,
Making other sounds quite difficult to hear.
Many bridges are closed to high-sided trucks,
In case, into the river below, they are sucked.
Rain water collecting in roof guttering now overflows;
Cascading down to the already sodden ground below.
Along the coastline, massive waves pound the sea wall,
Roaring like a mighty lion, as they angrily rise and fall.
The waves are crested with white frothy foam,
And threaten to engulf nearby seafront homes.
In some places, fallen trees are blocking roads;
Any approaching traffic is now abruptly slowed.
Some railway lines, to, are blocked by fallen trees;
Commuters, who are in a rush, this does not please.
Refuse bins fall to the ground with a sudden clatter;
Pouring out their contents of largely decaying matter.
A power cut is caused by fallen electricity cables,
Which workmen will fix as soon as they are able.
Flooding some streets, the heavy rain beats down;
Almost cutting off some of the much smaller towns.
People dash through the rain: their jaws clenched,
But, however fast they run, they still get drenched.
People look far from happy and wear a frown.
They shiver, as the rain falls relentlessly down.
The raging storm causes damage far and wide,
Before it finally calms and decides to subside.
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