Ernestine Northover

Veteran Poet - 1,664 Points (25th March 1943)

The Storm - Poem by Ernestine Northover

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 about The Storm by Ernestine Northover

  • (5/9/2006 2:47:00 PM)

    Brilliant! ! ! ! just Brillliant! ! !
    Love Duncan
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  • (1/11/2006 5:30:00 PM)

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

    Bill M
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  • (10/30/2005 8:22:00 AM)

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

  • (10/20/2005 9:30:00 AM)

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

Read all 4 comments »
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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Poem Edited: Sunday, January 6, 2008

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