BRANDEN B. BRANDEN

Untitled #3

In thickened night, the fretful rapture came
Awakened in the dryness of straw-dead summer's mind
Cursing in wide, breathy howling as it went
Pushing lofty power over trees that blew and bent
And so abhorred, slung wetness at the bind
Sprung lifting up to cry, dew is not the same!

Though long before, rest its firm and lightless lid
When pins of rain flecked the outer-skirting leaves
Then devil-tales plucked on the heart threads of the breeze
Tremulous, fought back the humble strain of ease
In a flinch, at everything the sudden outburst heaves
A brawling mass, to be still, the night, to be rid

Ahold impasse, our eyes, or thoughts before the scourge
Our cares aside, as all else was left to smother
Lightning-soaked, its crossing moods uncertain
The moaning tantrum, and careening of its curtain
At all greenery, and all the din saw fit to wuther
We who watched, perturbed: the bright, dark, passing urge





from "All the Things in Our Blue Universe"
please support my work on Amazon

Topic(s) of this poem: nature

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, March 18, 2020

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about Untitled #3 by BRANDEN B. BRANDEN

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags