Saturday, July 6, 2019

THUNDERSTORMS - by William Henry Davies




THUNDERSTORMS 

by William Henry Davies


My mind has thunderstorms,
That brood for heavy hours:
Until they rain me words,
My thoughts are drooping flowers
And sulking, silent birds.


Yet come, dark thunderstorms,
And brood your heavy hours;
For when you rain me words,
My thoughts are dancing flowers
And joyful singing birds. 




 
 
 
 
 

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