Thunder (an acrostic poem)

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The storm crashed through the valley

Heaving tree branches and debris to-and-fro

Until there seemed to a charged pause

Negative particles madly dash from sky to ground

Determined to find a place to rest

Except that outbreak from the heavens causes heated air to flee the scene

Resulting in colder air to rush in and clap at the drama of it all

Thor (an acrostic poem)

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The lightning and thunder are at his command

His hand holding a spinning Mjolnir

Outside he looks like he is as calm as the eye of a hurricane

Reality was the true storm was raging inside

Storm (an acrostic poem)

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Stabbing light slashed down from stone-gray clouds

The weather perfectly fit Patty’s mood as fat raindrops ravaged the arid soil

Outside nature threw one of her best temper tantrums

Reminding Patty of her last relationship when she finally broke it off

Men could be such whiners

Tempest (an acrostic poem)

The storm was coming; she could feel it in her bones

Electrical shocks paused through her emotional system

Making her nerves sizzle, waiting for the other shoe to fall

Penelope didn’t want to be this apprehensive

Everyone has a bad day every once in a while

So she was due, and yet she knew this was different

Thunder rolled across her mental landscape.  Then the downpour started

 

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One Fewer For The Enemy (a 200 word story)

The killing field surrounded her as if she was in the eye of the storm.  Bodies strewn all over, stabbed, shot, burnt.  Not another living soul was in sight.   Fallen comrades in arms were strewn among the remains of their enemies.  It was a miracle that she was alive considering how much of her own blood stained the ground beneath her feet.

Her unit had been sent out to stop the approaching horde.  Their village had been decimated by the plague, so they could only send out farmers and those too old to serve anymore.  She was amazed they had stopped the monsters from taking away what was left.

She was so tired, but there was still there was more to do.  She lit her torch and began to burn those bodies closest to her.  The stench of sizzling flesh stung her lungs and eyes, but she didn’t pause as she raced to set more of the fallen ablaze.

The battle had been fast, but not fast enough.   She tried to cry, but the tears were too tired to come.  As the moon rose, so did the fallen.  She could only set herself on fire.  One fewer for the enemy.

 

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Alone (an acrostic poem)

As the party swirled around him

Liam felt like he was in the eye of the storm

Only those looking for a respite would stop to chat

Never staying long before being swept back up into the fray

Eventually, he faded away back home

 

 

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The Coming Storm

The dark clouds race across the horizon.  Their arrival announced by the fleeing wind and the bass rumble of discontent.  Lightning flashes raise the hairs on the back of my neck and I try to stare the storm down.  I gather the energy pushing against me, and with the thrust of my hands, push back.  The effort has little to no effect and I feel heartbroken.  This would have worked if there was really magic in the world, I’m sure of it.  The sky opens up, mocking me as I am drenched by some of the largest rain drops I have ever seen.  Lightning takes pictures of me as I slowly walk to the house under the mocking laughter of thunder.  I shake my fist at the storm as I get to my front door.  The thunder goes silent and the rain begins to lesson.   A smile spreads on my face as the sun peaks out from the dark clouds.  Maybe there is magic.  I dance in the puddles of my victory, at least until my mother calls me inside.