The Stillness Before a Storm:

Amongst the oceans of clear blue skies,
A cloud does make its stand.
Failing to make known its defiance to our minds—
Setting into motion a plan.

“A single cloud…’tis harmless enough,”
What can it do alone?
But started it has, sure enough,
Ere a single wind is blown.

A stalking silence, sets to mind
An illusion of a doldrum day
And with the absence of a tempest gusting
A stillness falls to the lips and lays,

An assumedly sweet taste
Made bitter by its end.
Now bird and beast with haste
Fly home to nest and den.

A taste sensation re-woken
And to the senses play,
By a breeze in the stillness broken
Upon this doldrum day.

The clattering of an old oak’s leaves—
The gentle wisp of a cloud,
And yonder over line of trees
A raging tempest left in shroud.

The towns’ eyes gaze intently
As the gusts begin to whirl and wail.
As if those gusts were lamenting
For a beauty’s ill-lucked spell.

And over the ridge is rising,
The tempest’s spiteful throng
As thus begins the wrathful screaming
Over the doldrum song.