Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Poetic Bloomings Swap Quatrain

When it Storms

When the skies are gray, the air grows cool
The wind picks up, the shadows rule
The water laps, the pine trees sway
The air grows cool when the skies are gray

When the thunder rolls the lightning splits
The animals hide, and the downpour hits
The campers run as the weather controls
The lightning splits when the thunder rolls

On our journey here, the storms will come
We’ll want to hide, we’ll want to run
But in our God, we have no fear
The storms will come on our journey here

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