The Storm Poem by Ernestine Northover

The Storm

Rating: 4.9


Blue hills, along the horizon hugging,
Like a mountain range in mist,
Lightning flashing, thunder crashing,
Part of God's almighty fist.
Clouds descending, bowing deeper,
Within their centre, shadows form,
And, as if this world's a sleeper,
It lays waiting for the storm.
After the onslaught of the raindrops,
Silence all around is heard,
Then within this peaceful stillness,
Awakes the sweet notes of a bird.

© Ernestine Northover

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Duncan Wyllie 09 May 2006

Brilliant! ! ! ! just Brillliant! ! ! Love Duncan

0 0 Reply
Bill Mitton 11 January 2006

Ernestine, again this is very good indeed short but oh so evocative. brilliant! Bill M

0 0 Reply
Simon Whild 30 October 2005

Beautiful. It reminds me a lot of one of my father's watercolours. Enough said.

0 0 Reply
Uriah Hamilton 20 October 2005

A poem with a lovely flow despite the stormy content, and I dug the bird ending.

0 0 Reply
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success