Sunday Sonnet!

Then came the long awaited precious rain,
With thunderous applause midst lightning strikes,
Relentless hailstones causing joyous pain,
Fast thawing ice in torrents breaching dikes;
For weeks, nay months, thick clouds had come and gone,
Mean, tantalising omens came to naught,
As living, all, to drought’s embrace were drawn,
And each new dawn with dangers fresh were fraught;
Unshackled from restraints, to wit, unknown,
The weather gods their pent up passions vent,
Reducing one and all to moan and groan,
Until smidgens of energy are spent;
In aftermath, raw anger wasteland leaves,
Yet, faith new cloth of restoration weaves!

©Meanderings 2016