Passing Storm

Once again, as often before

Angry waves torment pebbled shore

Streams and river can hold no more

Gorged, they greedily flood and score

….

Boughs and tree tops bend, submit

Dancing, possessed, as some mad fit

Corn lies flat against the ground

Wheat and barley, bent and drowned

….

Wind howls around a shabby cottage

Lichened thatch, now in its dotage

Uneven windows rattle and crash

Climbing roses twist and thrash

….

Smoke struggles up the sooted stack

Puffing and swirling, blowing back

Flickering candles show eddies within

Guttering answers to the banshee din

….

The moon, it seems, races each dark cloud

Revealing weathered hills, stood solid, proud

Brighter still flash exploding bolts

Snapshots with ten thousand volts

….

Lightning shatters an oak asunder

Earth itself quakes with the thunder

Sheets of rain now throw themselves down

On cobbled streets in the nearby town

….

In the cottage, through the open door

A silent shadow peers out in awe

Hears distant rumbles, sees the oak aflame

As, passing, the storm echoes its name

Personal Demons

It needs only half a mind

To have demons of some kind

And those which make one doubt

Are the hardest to cast out

….

Some trouble the happy state

With worries over fate

Others sneer at good intention

And distract your full attention

….

If you would push these demons back

Counter every cruel attack

It can calm your mind like stone

To remember you are not alone

Flying

Why, oh why, can I not fly

To chase the birds across the sky

Soar on thermals above the land

Pass above the sea and sand

….

Laugh at those in gravity’s maw

Earth-bound terrestrial plodding corps

Whilst I pierce silvered fleeting clouds

Divorced from two dimensional crowds

….

Feel the lift above my wings

Glory exceeding the heights of kings

Eschew the paths mankind must tread

Know freedom of the winds instead