The Storm - A Poem

[Rook]

And lo, the clouds did come
The dark black blot in the sky
Fluttering the leaves that hung in the trees
With wind that swept on by

Shadow, like in in water
Drew over the hills and wood
Adrift into every nook
Slunk to where the house stood

A house small and square that sat unaware
At the bottom of a hill
Of cobble stones and beams like bones
All was calm and still

As 'round its base the shadow came
Creeping above the stone
Trying to find a way inside
The house that sat alone

It circles the foundation
To test each slip and crack
But every entry that it sought
Sought to drive it back

The windows! the clouds then thought
It was such a simple trick
But curtains were drawn and windows shut
By locks it could not pick

Enraged the shadow billowed up
In a vortex no light could know
Even then, the house was still
And every window glowed

Down the chimney foul smoke shot
To find no solace there
The fire that burnt, the smoke soon learnt
Was more than it could bare

Battered, bruised, dazed and confused
The shadow did scream and moan
But passing by up into the sky
The storm left the house alone.

[Mira O'Halloran]

I love the detail you've put into this! So many people look at storms as "it got dark, the wind rattled the windows, and then it went away" But you've played with so many pictures and created some very unique imagery - the 5th and 6th stanzas.

Love it.

[Rook]

Glad to hear it.

[Rauve]

Fantastic, you could get that published!

[Rook]

You flatter me. I'm not sure there's much call for individual poems, and I don't have enough content to produce my won anthology.

[Rauve]

Despite that, poems of such a quality are few and far between.