I'm a writer, a poet, a dreamer. Born and raised in New York City. I now live in Daytona Beach, Florida. .
The dark clouds came rolling in
and the evening turned,
to the black of night,
as lightning bolts flashed across the heavens.
The booming sound of thunder was heard,
from somewhere up above,
came the faint whispers -
of spirits disturbed by the storm.
So upset they were,
the dead awoken by the thunder,
that I saw them gather in the stormy summer night.
Some dancing, some running they filled the sky,
you could see them in between the flashes of lightning,
ghostly white swirls,
among the rolling dark clouds
and as they disappeared into the storm,
a skeleton upon a large, ghostly horse,
threw a giant thunder bolt,
that lit up the sky -
ending in a crash of booming thunder.
It was no wonder,
that the storm took on force,
till it howled itself out -
with the coming of the dawn.
The spirits all retreated
and the blood red sun rose,
upon a world all shiny and clean,
from the sudden summer storm and the rain
that had left behind raindrops,
as bright as colorful pearls,
upon the leaves, the grass
and flower blossoms.
Even by the sea,
the storm had taken away the rolling waves
and I left my footprints,
upon the wet sand.
© 2018 Gypsy Rose Lee