Rumbling low in the distance,
Feeling the change in air pressure,
She’s alert, trembling, afraid.
Up on all fours, pushing, nudging for safety.
Winds howling in protest, rain lashing down,
Lightning illuminates the bow,
But the rolls of thunder scare the most.
Unseen, but felt in vibration,
A certain pitch to torment the senses,
Never knowing when the next boom will come calling.

Strong but kind fingers caress her coat,
Soothing her nerves as a voice speaks softly,
‘Nothing can hurt you’.
Words of protection and promise,
She snuggles down alongside,
Still shaking slightly, her nose

Buried deep into the pocket of sanctuary,
The rhythmic presence of calm and love:
A different pressure comes over her,
One of contentment and peace.

She sleeps.

Digital Camera



About pensitivity101

I am a retired number cruncher with a vivid imagination and wacky sense of humour which extends to short stories and poetry. I love to cook and am a bit of a dog whisperer as I get on better with them than people sometimes! We have an elderly dog called Maggie who adopted us as a 7 week old pup in March 2005. From 2014 to 2017 'Home' was a 41 foot narrow boat where we made strong friendships both on and off the water. We were close to nature enjoying swan and duck families for neighbours, and it was a fascinating chapter in our lives. We now reside in a small bungalow on the Lincolnshire coast where we have forged new friendships and interests.
This entry was posted in fears and phobias, Maggie, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Thunderstorm

  1. I really liked the poem, Thunderstorm. This is significant because I don’t like thunderstorms. You are a good poet. Hugs, Barbara

    • Thanks Barbara. I used to write a lot in my school days, but it was mostly corny romantic stuff with no substance. Now Ilm so much older, I see things differently, especially poetry as a means of expression.

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