This is a poem I wrote, as you may have guessed, after a storm.
'After the Storm...'
The rain falls softly in the trees,
Whose branches dance in the breeze,
Blue skies have turned palest grey,
In the Breeze long grass does sway.
The sodden earth shines wet and cold,
The thunder booms of storiese old,
The creatures hide in shelters dark,
Their small soft footprints leave no mark.
Amidst the cold and wet and night,
A beacon is found, shining bright.
For even if blow does the storm,
One thing shall remain the norm...
The storm will always go away,
And after comes a fresh new day.
Where bees will buzz and birds will sing,
And sun will shine on everything.