Learn more about other poetry terms

 ‘Twas an ill wind blowing on that August day. ‘Twas a portent of what was headed that way. All saints and sinners, aye ye better take heed, of the storm they called Katrina.  
Poem – Plans   I have set in my mind my path and course.    Plotted out the direction and the means.  
Reaching down from grey forming cloudsa rumbling locomotive’s charging soundthe vortex spins its mighty handsas it bounces and vacuums across living landdestroying every time it touches down
i know it’s coming with a sniff of my nosethe scent in the air lets me know it’s close.  the impending storm coming around the bendflowers will drink from what nature sends. 
There is a place that you may go sometimes It maybe dark or bright You could hear either drums or pianos One things for sure never one the x mark door
I’m afraid Of two things. This isn’t to say That I am not afraid Of other things But My fear of deep, dark, cold waters, And the places on Earth That the light doesn’t reach
I am a cloud I will water this land I will see it grow Nothing can destroy me My hope keeps me strong I can see the acid they pour It is weak Their attempts cannot stop a storm
I wanna float on Lighter fluid, I want to watch the fire dance around me, I want to be lighter fluid, Cause the mess I'm in is heavy.   Life doesn't slow down, Won't slow down for anyone.
Thunderstorm in the attic: Nonsensical.   There is a storm in my home. She rips through my hall, growling. The ‘patter’ of rain begins to pummel my oak floor.
Rainfall, thunder Crashes, electrifying lightning, there is something in a storm that is incredibly poetic. Past the metaphorical washing away of sins and literal lifegiving superpowers that comes from the rain.
The wind and the rain the storm in the drains. 
The sky is falling Storming and squalling   The wind is whipping And clouds are tripping   The trees are tumbling Cars are bumbling   The power is stunning
  To my Dearest, Sky,
Holding onto A storm is impossible When lightning stings, Drops falls, Clouds roll, And it hurts to hold on To the rain storm.  
It starts with swollen clouds Blue and grey Bleeding into the summer sky The air is dead Warm and moist A rumble is heard Distant yet strong Then the wind comes Light at first
She is the voice who calms the waters within me. The voice who soothes the waves that are building up to that disastrous tsunami, ready to destroy anything or anyone in my path.  
On Monday, joy takes the stage and translates to a beaming smile. On Tuesday, the forecast reads for a cloud of doubt, but no one notices a thing. On Wednesday, the cloud is overhead.
Storms are like anger They come when they feel like it And leave when they are done At first there are small gusts of words Those small gusts build and build Then eventually they erupt
Why must you go? Can we not sit in the shade and talk like we used to?   Do you not want to watch the violets bloom underneath the tree we had claimed as ours?
When love fades White clouds will turn grey Storms will come All promises will go away   Goodbye, goodbye Farewell heart Hey common sense
The murky clouds came quickly,
The skies go to war when the clouds are silver all through the land you can hear the cracks and roars see the anger flashing in the sky destroying everything in the wrong place and the wrong time
Rain splashes down like the tears I feel inside. They slide down the window panes, reminding me of the pain inside. My mind cries, shouting for you. Suddenly the sun bursts through, a silver lining on a cloudy day.
I smile at the storm Because I love the challenge The fog covering my Dreams Makes my dreams vivid The rain weighing me down Adds to the weight that anchors me To the roots of my passions
When the storm clouds rolled,  I lifted my head to the sky. When fate the lightning foretold, I smiled but didn't wait to die.   Lifting my skirts, I danced through the rain,
i used to write about  the wind and how it carries the lovely  broken thoughts of humanity 
What we had lives only in memories in my heart in my soul, in my mind.What we had is gone,gone,echoed only in our shadows.Gone from the light
The wind forces the trees to bend as the storm sets in, as the lightning illuminates the  hopeless night.   The news has spread- it's not the only thing- the storm is growing, spreading,
Love is like a wild stormWith a shower of broken hearted rainIt will swing you like a tornadoFlood your heart like a hurricaneIts hard to love someoneThat doesn’t love you
Catch the clouds in your palms, Molten wisps that speed like trains, But tastes like violet and two-a-days. Bathe in autumn, evening heavens at Seven o’clock in the morning, Cold that tugs at the down
I wish I lived alone so no one would have to hear the rain fall and the rolling thunder Instead I hide and bury myself in blankets and pillows in fear of being heard.
After the winds have settled amidst the stress and tension, there you find your true peace.   The storm will pound down, pulling at all you have. But, through the sheets of rain
Foreboding thunder claps from miles away, Water deluges the streets. Ominous winds strike the earth, Lightning bolts intrude.
Someone once said that we shouldn't wait for the storm to pass,  but learn to dance in the rain.  Well, I definitely can't dance,  my rhythm is  weak and my limbs- clumsy. But I know I 
Crickets chirp sweetly The wind brushes through the trees The summer storm builds   Raindrops hit the tin Puddles begin to appear Birds still sing their songs  
The wind against the house, it swells as thunder tolls its looming knells a flash against the windowpane that sparks in every drop of rain, the blood from each electric vein, so peal the storm's torrential bells.
Summer is here, the storms are near, the clouds are rolling in, I can hear the thunder in the distance, the cold air brush against my face, water droplets that seem to fall from space, summer is here,
Rolling skies Tennis Ball sized hail Spring is here
I stand upon the endless shore, Gazing at the great beyond, Soaking every open dream it holds, Hearing its endless song.
Born in the wake of the storm, she was nurtured by its water and punished with thunder and inherited its temper, striking the innocent and looming with darkness. Out of control,
As I hear the pitter-patter of the rain against the window I think of new beginnings. Reconciliation. The budding of the spring. Pinecones popping A sign of the blooming. Then the hail thuds.
The rain, it is my comfort, when I sit, alone, in darkness, my thoughts completely consumed by you.
Eyes like Storms, Secrets churning in their depths. Emotion; chained. Encased in glacial stone. Arrogance incarnate In his Golden Crown. Athena’s blessing Behind his brow.
Subscribe to Storms