Riding the Storm

I awoke to virtual darkness - although it was morning light
the air was hot and humid; it was a restless night..
I peeped out of the gothic bedroom window - not a bird in sight
an eery silence, the calm before the storm..
then I could hear faint rumbles in the distance
the whole atmosphere forlorn.
this I fear could be the Mother of all storms..
suddenly quickening; nearing in it's pace
it's almost apon us, winds gently blowing the ivory lace..
an almighty crack, like a shotgun startles..
the rain now urgently falling, formations of crown-like sparkles..
the windows rattling, it's now directly above.
it's power, the threat of imminent danger -
the fear.. I have no love.
electricity lights up the dusky skies..
white lightening dancing it's crooked fork
lost in it's spectacular display, I'm caught..
patiently waiting, riding the storm
hard to believe this is early morn..
in gentle graduation it subsides, then fades
left with a steaming vapour, a misty haze..
into the distance faint rumbles heard.
a pleasing goodbye to that darkened world.
suddenly a chink of light with it's jagged edge
pokes through a charcoal cloud
so contrastingly blinding.
entangled shards of yellow enshrouds...