The Storm Poem by Philip Carter

Dark clouds are forming quickly
The air feels thick and warm
It is the perfect setting
For a massive thunderstorm
The birds have all stopped singing
They're keeping their heads down
The wildlife are leaving the swollen stream
There's a risk that they might drown
A blinding flash lights up the sky
And a thunderclap is heard
To want to be outside right now
Is an idea that's absurd
The heavens open and torrential rain
Pours down upon the ground
And after a few seconds
No dry patch can be found
A few more claps of thunder
And the storm comes to an end
The birds start up their singing
Their own area they defend
And so the storm is over
And the air feels crisp and clean
The sun is shining brightly
It's like the storm has never been.