I'll start with an Elizabethan sonnet. My mother, Mary W. Carson, the real writer (award-winning poetry and prose) helped me with the assignment. I think this help is why it won some award and I ended up reading it at a Piccolo Spoleto event.....long ago and far away.
When summer storms come rolling in to shore
Their darkened clouds send people dashing home,
While those within prepare for what's in store
And watch the wild birds wheel above the foam.
The hearth is cleared and driftwood set alight
And hot drinks served to warm away the chill
Of those who witness all of Nature's might
As lightning flashes just beyond the sill.
Outside, the trees are bowed before the wind,
The rain, in sheets, comes slanting in the squall.
Its fury slackens right before the end
As clouds break up and night begins to fall.
The moonlight shows the bleached white sands as day
And all the signs of storm have gone away.