The dark cloud raged.
Gone was the morning light.
The big drops darted down:
The storm stood tall on the rose-trees:
And the bees that were getting honey
Out of wet roses,
The hiding bees would not come out of the flowers
Into the rain.
Thunder Shower
Hilda Conkling
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Poem topics: cloud, dark, light, rain, rose, honey, storm, morning, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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