A moodiness appears on days like this,
when darkness hangs upon the sky.
When gloom and doom roil in clouds,
Where down below a pall hangs over,
A putrid, pallid, pitied pattern of pain,
Fading landscape's melancholy faŤade,
Into dark and dreary, tearful and bleary,
No comforting thoughts can break the spell,
Alcohol burns and the fire's flame tries to quell,
Until the sun, once again, returns to light,
Rays of its splendor will peek from the clouds.
Once again, lighting up hope, just ahead.
After the Storm © Rachel Gnagy
Today started out to be quite dreary. 6/2/16