Trees are the beautiful giants of our world. Every outing I take with Grandpa we go to forested places where trees rule the land. Storms should be the ony thing they fear but it is not so. Trees are in trouble from the houses that are made in their place. This poem is about how trees should fear storms, not us.
Quiet with the summer heat
River wait for me to greet
Thunder is my sword of pain
Open up my belly of rain
Thunder yells from trumpets of wind
Electric flash of evil sin
You fear the clouds are dark
When the thunder does have spark
You take its gift for granted
As if the rains are enchanted
We yearn for cooling rains
As doubts of dry wanes
Trouble as thunder assemble
Families together they tremble
On the river rain slivers
as down pours trees shiver
Thunder go quietly
For trees fear your mighty