Tangled Conceit

The gentle morning has been
transformed by the cunning
stealth of storm clouds conspiring
to occlude the sweet azure sky
with angrily bruised clouds anxious
to relieve themselves of their burden
of moisture, releasing a smothering
waterfall on the unsuspecting
landscape shuddering below.

Oddly variant, the day closed in on
itself. Having just attained to the
lightness of dawn, the sky succumbed
to the darkened aspect of dusk. A
rumble of ill-natured discontent
rent the atmosphere and the gardens,
startled from their placid display of
charmed form and brash colour in
defiance of the intrusive elements,
sparked their pride in a tangled conceit.