Tropical Storm

There's a storm brewing,
Out to sea.
She's growing fast,

Sucking in,
All the heat she can find.
Getting ready,
To unwind.

Unleash on us,
Her mighty bands.
Stronger than,
The strongest hands.

As she shapes,
The beach swept sands.
So she shapes,
Our lives and lands.

She goes for the low,
Avoids the high.
Can't tell her mood,
By the sky.

Sometimes she's ferocious,
Lashing fear with dread.
Sometimes she's gentle,
Spreading sweet rain instead.

Born on the heat,
Of a tropical wave.
She waits to strike,
Or your soul to save.

Can’t live with her,
And can’t live without.
It’s what tropical living’s
All about.

So grab a cool drink,
Put your feet up high.
And hope you’re still here,
When she’s gone by.

Tropical Storm

Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull



More Poems

My Place

Read War's End, the Novel

Photo:  NOAA, Hurricane Floyd