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The Storm Black clouds growl And roll menacingly From horizon to horizon Thunder shakes the earth As though the equatorial belt Has been tied sixteen notches tighter And then suddenly released. All is black. A strange, unfriendly darkness for the mid-day hour. Only a crack of lightening Chiselling and splitting its way through the clouds Brings light. And that part of the earth where the fork strikes Is a-glow, as fires burn and houses tumble – And children scream. Then it starts – The sky spits down its little pools of water Until the earth appears to swim beneath the sky. Then, all at once, as in the twinkling of an eye, The black clouds give birth To a blue and silver lining in the sky And all that is left of the storm Are fires smouldering And the tumbled down stones Glistening as though kissed by some god. |
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