The Summer of Thunderstorms (Poetry)[Complete]

The Summer of Thunderstorms

It was a Monday night

During the Summer of Thunderstorms

When I visited a field to think.

The grass was thick

and I sunk right in

I didn't even notice

The world begin to dim

I awoke to the sound of crashing

And the intense rumble of the highway

Then the lightning came flashing

And the sky went to gray

Cars drove away,

People packed up to go

When right before my eyes

The field became a meadow

Pink and white flowers

Appeared as she soared,

On this neglected field

I know was bare before

Her eyes were emerald green

and her skin was champagne white

She had lavender locks

And a slight overbite

This creature was a godsend

Leaving glitter in her trail

She changed raindrops into diamonds

But no one noticed the hail

Light pierced through the sky like a needle

Closer and closer she sailed

I waved, chased, and called after the people

But, to no avail

I looked back, there she was

Coming my way

She was galloping over

The leftover hay

She sped up her pace

Steady and svelte

The nearer she got

The fainter I felt

I awoke eye-to-eye

with the magical mare

Looked down, all was sky

I was high in the air

She showed me her home:

An alternate version of Germany.

They played Germanic music

Her family sang in harmony

She showed me her favourite castle

It's been there eight hundred years

I stood there, marvelling

Then she motioned to me, "Come here".

She led me up a stairwell

Narrow, crumbling, and white

To a room, clean and hexagonal

Objects placed exactly right

I can't say what I saw

She made me swear not to tell

She left me with a book

And then bid me farewell

Before I got to read it

I was sleepy once again

By the storm, I was greeted

Awake with the book in my hand

When I turned to page one

I didn't know quite yet

Why'd she leave it with me?

Why was I meant to see it?

It was partially a warning

Partially advice

It told me something was coming

That I needed to be wise

By now, the bugs were out

Gnats circled me in swarms

I tucked the book beneath my arm

And left the field informed

Of the significance of thunderstorms in the summer.