by AnnaB

Created on: February 08, 2011

Storms suddenly drenching the fields,

Storms raging through the night many a hailstone yields.

Storms passing by,

Storms lingering as if to ask why

Storms, sitting on the edge, waiting perhaps for you to call

Storms swiftly shifting as the dust begins the nightly fall.

Storms, shaking out the sands

Storms, washing the stones, raising the waves, coming to every land

Storms, reaching out

Storms, lingering long waiting for that final shout…

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