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Lyric Lines

A Cento by Beverly Stock.

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The thunder’s booms are very loud,

With quicker motion, folks ply the rake.

Ready to burst the pitch-black cloud,

And all a bigger haycock* make. (1)

The wind begins to rock the grass

With threatening howls and low,

Wind flings a menace at the earth,

A blustery autumn gigolo.

The leaves undo themselves from trees.

Lining paths along the road;

The wind scoops them so casually,

And scatters them where we rode. (2)

My mind has rumbling thunderstorms,

That brood for many hours:

Until they drench me with words,

My thoughts are drooping flowers.

Yet come, all dark thunderstorms,

For when you rain those words,

My thoughts somehow transform (3)

Into the best rhymes ever heard.




My “Found” poem incorporates my liberal edits and additions to poetry in the public domain of John Clare, Emily Dickinson, and William Henry Davies, all about thunder.


*a conical heap of hay



(1) John Clare, “The Thunder Mutters”

(2) Emily Dickinson, “A Thunderstorm” (3) William Henry Davies, “Thunderstorms”


 

Beverly Stock is an American poet who delights in creating poetry that asks big questions about small moments, and inspires readers to revisit the little memories we so often overlook. Her work has been published by The Society of Classical Poets, The Chained Muse, Persimmon Tree, and LightenUp Online, in the UK. Visit BeverlyStockPoetry.com and BeverlyStockPoetry on Facebook.

Lyric Lines

© 2012 Beverly Stock


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