Sunday, September 28, 2008

Poetry Sunday

Soul Storm

Stately shields of white do bask
hiding the blue blazing mask.
Frothy crested domes of light.
Billowy blackness haunt the night.

Sweeping across the fading miles
caps are crowning glorious tiles.
Dominating the borne domain
master of the azure plain.

Nightshades flutter amid the stance
nimbus clouds begin their dance.
Clustered as a prism bay,
thunder erupts so cleaves the day.

Floating weightless without a sound.
Lightning bolts seize the ground.
Erupting in calamity's heat.
The soul and cosmos briefly meet.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...


This is very nice. You've captured the feel of the storm in a very beautiful way. I especially like, "Floating weightless withoug a sound. Lightning bolts seize the ground."

Nice visuals.