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Summer Storm
Storm rages, and all flee its wrath
Trees crack and the power lines moan
Thors own hammer smites the ground
And the sky is split with fire
Summer storm's dark fury
Like a hammer made of stone
Blotting out sweet Sunna's orb
and chill you to the bone
Laughter bubbling from my throat
As I step into its wrath
Lightning burning in my viens
Skin reddening at its lash
About my work I stride alone
While all about me flee
Throw my head back and howl my joy
When the thunder hammers in
Dark as night it comes at noon
Save in the lighning flash
Like a drunkard in its grasp
Or a raven on its winds
Storm winds slacken, thunder stills
Sunna now does shine
All emerge from where they hid
To find me all but spent
Free of care and laughing still
Heedless of its chill
They think me mad, who ran and hid
I think them madder still.
© John T Mainer
This work by John T Mainer is licensed
under a
Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivatives License.
The Freyr's
Press of the
Heathen Freehold Society of BC:
Kindertales and
Kindertales
2
by John T Mainer et al.