My mind has thunderstorms, That brood for heavy hours: Until they rain me words, My thoughts are drooping flowers And sulking, silent birds. Yet come, dark thunderstorms, And brood your heavy hours; For when you rain me words, My thoughts are dancing flowers And joyful singing birds. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WITH BEST WISHES by DOROTHY PARKER THE PHILOSOPHER by EMILY JANE BRONTE THE VANISHING RED by ROBERT FROST RETURNING, WE HEAR THE LARKS by ISAAC ROSENBERG ON THE COLLAR OF MRS. DINGLEY'S LAP-DOG by JONATHAN SWIFT |