Man, or: Plan

A Cywydd Llosgyrnog

Grey clouds in the sky, thickening;
Therein, dense storm front quickening;
Reckoning on land and man.
Lightning bursts, thunder claps crushing;
Skies wailing; rains, weighty, gushing;
We ~ brushing against grand plan.

14 thoughts on “Man, or: Plan”

  1. Random… I could hear Willy Wonka saying this with his mischievous smile. I think it is the “thickening” and “quickening” ~ whatever did it, that is a compliment! Needless to say, I enjoyed this.๐Ÿ˜

  2. wOw! We had a big storm last night and I can still feel the electricity in the air and the sound of the rain pounding against the house… This one is excellent (and the form works so well)!

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