Rumbling Through

The sublime perfection of a summer day
must be comprised of drowsy heat, the
sun's full prominence in a full-vaulted sky
of shimmering oceanic blue; on the horizon
sheepish puffs of clouds grazing pastorally on
the atmospheric ether, steadily nibbling
away the blue, the curl-haired flock
growing in numbers as the blue is consumed
and the innocence of white transforms the
the clouds fully mature, until they are rams all,
prepared to butt their dark grey heads upon
the firmament itself transformed to a vast
trampling ground of nature's studs bellowing
fierce defiance to their combatant-charged
opponents. The arras is rent by their charges,
electrical impulses leap on the air, the
thunderous assaults of their locked horns
conclude the day in a drama of truly
outstanding proportions, regal and grand
at their impulsive sheepmistresses' command.