April 25, 2017 by phicks2012
We’ve had rather a lot of rain this spring, with gentle spring showers interspersed with the threat — though rarely the reality — of more violent storms. The Weather Channel is constantly warning us that potentially dangerous storm fronts are moving our way in sweeps of yellow, orange and red, with swirling wind icons and little animated lightning bolts flashing on the maps.
We never know when things might actually get nasty, and while I’ve always loved thunderstorms I’ve also been near enough to a few tornados to be concerned when the skies get really dark and the old trees around me start bending and swaying right along with the younger, more limber, timber.
The verse below was not composed ‘during” a storm, because I generally turn off my computer at such times to avoid having it fall victim to a voltage surge, and the last time my power went out it was night. As retro and atmospheric as it might be, I’d rather not try to hand-write verses by candlelight if I can avoid it, especially when my eyesight isn’t precisely what it used to be once upon a time. 😉
No, it was written in the light of day in late March when violent weather was hovering over Louisiana and Mississippi, and moving into Alabama, and we’d been advised it was “heading” in our direction.
However, I have a very retentive memory, and it’s nice that this also gives me something new to publish in The Equinox, the monthly newsletter for the SCA Shire of Sol Haven. 😉
I feel the panes rattle, and hear the wind cry;
Tall trees near the castle bow down, verdant crowned,
Their heads in submission beneath a dark sky,
And weep o’er the river with susurrant sound.
The clouds sweeping over are heavy with rain.
Above reaching towers they thunder and flash,
And send down their fury in bifurcate chains
From high in the sweep where the storm giants clash.
The wind-driven tempests dance in from the west
To music sonorous, and drums thunder-deep.
Like tormented widows in dark mourning dressed
The thunderheads gather in sorrow to weep.
And so the storm comes, and the battle is waged,
With all the world seeming immersed in the fray,
But here in the castle, in pastimes engaged,
I wait patiently ’til it passes away.
[25 March, A.S. LI, 2017]