A Found Poem by Beverly Stock.
© Juergen Schonnop | Dreamstime.com
Thunder rolls and crashes loud,
Above us in a pitch-black cloud. (1)
Wind begins to sweep the grass,
Leaves ripped from trees(2) en masse.
Thunderstorms inspire my words,
Some lines as still as hummingbirds.
And in the darkest thunderstorms,
Then at last, my verse transforms.
When the rain falls heavily for hours,
A dreary phrase becomes a flaming flower,
As the rain inspires my rhyme,
My verse sounds as comely as springtime(3).
The “Thunderstorm” themed poetry of John Clare, Emily Dickinson and Wm Henry Davis, (see footnotes) inspired my own words in my found poem.
(1) Lines adapted of John Clare’s, The Thunder Mutters;
(2) Lines adapted from Emily Dickinson’s, A Thunderstorm;
(3) My last two stanzas inspired by Wm Henry Davis’, Thunderstorms,
All poems in the public domain.