Villanelle: Ominous Storm

I wrote this poem at work today. I hope you, dear reader, enjoy it because it is not my best.

Ominous are the storms that cast shadows

across the pale heart of the wide heavens

like the blackest night heralding day's close. 

The sharp howl of the whirling wind beckons

the sky being split and torn asunder

by lightning's veins all whilst the storm quickens.

The firmament's vaults echo with thunder

beating and striking its great, cloudy drums;

instruments of cataclysmic wonder.

Then the frothing and cascading rain comes

as a roaring, torrential downpour

that inundates with great, watery tons.

The rain, colored like a cloudy liquor,

veils the Stygian sky in milky mist,

and that fog wafts the smell of petrichor.

Passionate yet painful are the thunder's throes,

bright yet short is lightning thrown from Jove's fist,

raging yet solemn are the wind's echoes,

for it is not long before they desist.

Author's Note

Not my best, so any criticism is appreciated