More Poetry From Boreegard

Woodland Valley Storm

There is something marvelous and special
About a thunder-boomer moving through
Our little valley at night.

I sit on the darkened old cabin porch
Watching the far lightning
As it approaches closer and closer.

I am bathed in the mountainous
Cacophony of the thunder as it
Bounces off Panther and Romer.

It has the stern shocking sound
Of Revolutionary cannons—Henry Hudson’s men
Are bowling a perfect game tonight.

The attendant rain freshens the stream,
Oxygenating the trout, renewing them,
Raising their spirits—and mine.

Boreegard
aka Mike O'Neil
June 28, 2011