A Great Storm Cometh

max-larochelle-uu-Jw5SunYI-unsplashSometimes it can he hard to write an introduction when the intention of the words below is that they speak for themselves.

Suffice to say that the intention here is to start the reader at a point seemingly alien and somewhat unsettling, before then arriving them in a few short lines somewhere completely relatable.

And even that feels like saying too much!  

With thanks to Max LaRochelle for use of the header image.

She could feel the storm coming
Building and bulging
On the horizon
As it moved ever closer
Dark, ominous and threatening
It would be a storm like none before
She knew that truth
Like no other
The way it warned
Of its coming
The warm winds preceding
Carrying a feel for what loomed
Throwing up the earth
To reveal hot spices
And some sense of cinnamon
Moving ever closer
Rumbling all the louder
Threat getting greater
And she with but a few
Flimsy sheets for protection
Blankets at best
An inadequate shelter
As the bubbling tempest
Edged further her way
While she being wrapped in them
Would if anything
Only make that coming
But she was warm
Felt secure
Against the bitter iciness
On the other side
Of her temporary abode
Didn’t want to move for anything
Though would have to
Or face the storm
For all it was worth
The storm that couldn’t help
Make its presence known
Without doubt
Of how monumental
It would be on arrival
She pulled the sheets tighter
Regretful of the need to move
Delaying the time to go
Give flight from her nest
And then she knew
In a lightning bolt strike
To the bottom of the Earth’s bowels
It was now or never
That she must shift in the moment
Or be caught in the melee
So she did
Flinging the covers from her
And running through
The cold crisp air
Across the icy-feeling floor
To the bathroom
Where she entered
And was agonizingly relieved
Of last night’s vindaloo

Thanks for reading 🙂

N. P. Ryan

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