The soaring temperature, is followed by the storm
It feels like some New Orleans swamp
not a suburb in the UK
Fevers persist, maybe due to sickness
But maybe due to climate change
The storm is raging at 3am in more places than on my roof
The sun is out again, baking all the pavements
voodoo in the air
Invisible protests in the capital,
the weather is coming in biblical measurements these days
My fever comes with a twist of lime and sacrificial atonement
The storm is raging at 3am in more place than on my roof
Dazzled and confused by talking heads preaching peace for Syria by closing all our doors.
The air is very close, muggy they sometimes say,
feeling the static on my skin before the lightning strikes
The electricity, like angry thrashing eels, wrapping its natural menace around a tree, scaring cats.
Birds and cattle
startled, seeking shelter
The raven carks its warning, could this be the end?
The storm is raging at 3am in more places than on my roof
Sweet lady of the mist, disappearing into illusion, dancing naked in the memories of youth
Booming, magnificent and frightening
the thunder erupts,
the white clouds, once glowing ethereal mountains
conquered by sprites and unicorns, now an angry black rock face
meant not for mining or scaling,
just a barrier of the ages
It’s getting a little stifling, chewing feverfew can sometimes lift the gloom
It’s getting clearer not nearer, listen to the tune
In the boathouse scary stories, don’t always ring the truth
Perhaps you were joking, or deceiving,
would you accept the call
The clouds are gathering, they’ve got a song to sing
3am, didn’t mean to wake you
The storm is crowding in
©John de Gruyther 2014
The World Outside the Window 