Tempest

all his life,
the poet chased the storm
the roaring thunder, the lightning flash
sweet scent of firmament in the air

all his life,
the poet couldn't understand
the lure it had, nor reasons why
its call grew stronger everyday

all his life,
the poet strove in vain
to catch the storm, to taste its tears
always far beyond his reach

all his life,
the poet watched
in sorrow, in shame
as it watered another's field

for all his life
the poet could not
divert its flow, nor rid his soul
of desperate desire

for all his life
the poet had to hide
his darkened eye, the craven's quest
to keep the tempest

chained inside...

Author's Note

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

This poem deserves more than one review PSSST CAFE' -- look over here !!!!

[Caradoc]

Lol. I do not think anyone will see, but thank you for returning. :)

[Lyn Anderson]

PEOPLE WAKEY WAKEY -- RELIC -- YOU TOO -- HERE IS ANOTHER VASTLY UNDERRATED WRITER ON THE CAFE' !!!! XOXO

[Relic]

I'm on it. :)

[Lyn Anderson]

Mwah! Gotta love it.

[Lyn Anderson]

Hmmm. It would seem I am often the first to review a poem of yours. Nice form, great flow, dark thoughts. What's not to like?

[Caradoc]

Indeed. You usually are. I daresay few enjoy my poems these days. Still, thanks for continuing to read and review. It's much appreciated.

[Lyn Anderson]

It's more about people popping on and catching what's in the feed. They read my drivel, and pass on my favourites. It is the way of the Cafe' -- I have my friends, and my writers I like, and I am content with that. :)