Triple Despair - Response to Beth St. Clair Summer Storm
Summer Storm
Oh, night descends and darkness fills the sky,
the north wind blows a cheerless, haunting dirge,
and all is cold and harsh upon the eye,
until the sky and landscape seem to merge.
A melancholy storm is rolling in,
beneath this heavy sky of sombre hue,
where thunder speaks in an unearthly din
and clouds obscure the moonlight from our view.
The wind is rushing through the distant trees,
a language that is cumbersome and sad,
it whispers dark and hunted in the leas,
as if the trees were growing strangely mad.
A madness that crescendos in the air,
as nature shows her strength and her despair.