Sunday 1 September 2024

Dark clouds over the horizon

 


Surreal morning light

like the sky is tripping out.

Everything feels unreal.

Snaps, crackles and pops

as aerials fizzle, Tv serials ripple

like drizzle down a window.

 

In static, buzzing atmosphere,

I fear a storm is brewing.

Stewing, ready to blow in.

A strange haunting glow in the air.

Taunting the sun,

daring it to appear.

 

The first drops alight,

as successfully

as the wright brothers

initial test flights,

crashing down to earth

like sparks from a fire,

glistening in the curious light

before they have

a chance to burn brighter.

 

The tinkling bell-like sounds,

wind chimes caught

under torrential

water onslaught.

Gnomes would run for cover.

Bird homes wobble

in the increasing bluster.

The drumbeat pounding

on bass drum tables.

Sounds shouted down,

drowned out

by thunders primal call.

Neptune makes

its invasion a reality,

as the heavy rain

ceaselessly falls.

 

Underneath charged air,

a rousing crescendo.

I hear it, as trees bend, blown

by gales gathering speed.

Dark clouds growing thicker.

Headache as the storm gets nearer.

I wish to just dance in the downfall,

feel the waters wash away

the hurt of this world.

Feel the charge

tingle through tired skin.

Reinvigorate my lost feelings.

 

 



Thanks for reading
Follow this link for more.
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You can find my New book
"Tales from the 44A"
here
https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0DBKXPN13/

Please buy a copy to help me
continue to do this.

Peace, Love & Poetry
Kyle
 

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