Summer Storms

The thunder with its rumbling tummy has finally been fed,
It is tired after playing catch with lightning across the sky.
Clattering over rooftops of houses and up lanes of towns,
Like a herd of invisible horses hooves trampling the clouds.
Bursting them open with a blinding light of purple haze,
That caused the rain to fall in muted teardrops like a clown.
Touching the hearts of windowpanes and soaking humans,
As curse the games up in the sky for leaving them so wet.
But a sick man from his hospital bed joins in the silent tears,
As his fevered brain calms again and counts his blessings.
In the woodlands trees stretch out their branches so wide,
Hoping to score points by catching the drops to its leaves.
Where as the deserts beg and plead for just one drop to fall,
Like a miracle prayer to someone who lives beyond the sky.
Cows out in fields turn their noses upward silently inhaling,
A perfume that comes after a storm that reassures all is well.
The farmer’s daughter shuts her curtains for the final call,
As the thunder goes to sleep and will play again another day.

© Fi S. J. Brown

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Autumn – the multisensory season

Listening to the rain falling on autumnal leaves,
Like tears trickling down a clown’s tired cheek.
One a pulsating beat to dance long into the night,
The other ghost notes with no discernible pitch.

Watching the leaves turn from greens to reds,
Like traffic lights but few stop and wait a while.
One a sight of natural beauty for all the senses,
The other to warn of man made jungle dangers.

Seeing the leaves are individual shapes and sizes,
Like all human beings are all over Planet Earth.
One a mixture that few recognise the differences,
The other many want to change to look the same.

Look as well as listen, watch and see this autumn,
Like a child experiencing its magic for the first time.
One will awaken your senses to the whole world,
The other will bring you happiness outside and in.

© Fi S. J. Brown

Autumn in Pitlochry