Summer Storm

A longing lake loved within all,

Silence falls again once more.

The trees sway, shimmering softly now.

The trees beat, bow and bend.

A bird falls quiet not before,

And yet not after the noisy, old cow.

The flowers stop not to mend,

The flowers that stop for fall.

A frisky wind is not to allow,

Oh, what control it will depend.

The winter born deer make their call,

The winter born deer no longer feel sore.

A whistling is now heard to send,

So loud that it could never be for a doll.

The waves, they are crashing unlike before,

The waves the enemy of the workers plow.

A symphony of calamity all before fall,

Sounds more beautifully detonated than of that cow.

The storm, oh, how it is willing to lend.

The storm, it is rain but so much more.

A thrill thundering through the sky for all,

Tocking clocks dock before the initial blend.

The ships the have landed as all have before,

The ships seem to be leading the prow.

A chilly killed unliked thought is now not to be bore,

But like all sweet seeded scenes the storm seems to fend.

The rain, how it answers the chalky chuncky cheeky call,

The rain, and the life it is willing to allow.

A deep colored down cast sky at its core,

You would think we could, would, and should just fall.

The promise of live after the last calls of the cow,

The promise of truth of what the storms truly defend.

A storm used like the workers plow,

People seem to be repeating their work in all.

The clouds are so much more,

The clouds and how they mend.

A child clings to the widow and seems to bow,

They are tired but need to see that core.

The trip had been unlike any trend,

The trip and how it too seemed to join the call.

But storms all come to their end,

Never as they did the way they did before.

The ticky pricking licks from the plow,

The ticky time tipping into the water made wall.

But storms all come to their end,

And then returns the noisy, old cow.

The birds, flowers, and deer come to be all,

The birds and their perfectly pitched praises asking for more.

A longing lake loved within all,

Silence falls again once more.

The trees sway, shimmering softly now,

The trees beat, bow, and bend.