Here tears cascade down to the earth below
soaking the dry, hungry, aching soil
Her voice brings the wind to howl and blow
her rage heard in the thunder that roils
or seen in the luminescent coils
that light up the dark sultry summer night
touching down to earth with burning bite
Quick as it started her rage starts to wane
exhausted of her will, strength and her might
She lets her tears fall softly as the rain
C.M. Wellsmore 