Summer Storm
a pantoum
Depending on your point of view,
a storm can spoil the summer day.
It blankets any hint of blue
beneath a sheath of gloomy grey.
A storm can spoil the summer day.
The spongy pitch and puddled park,
beneath a sheath of gloomy grey.
The sun has quit. The day’s gone dark.
The spongy pitch and puddled park,
deserted. As the thunder roars,
the sun has quit. The day’s gone dark.
The neighbourhood has fled indoors.
Deserted as the thunder roars,
a grateful garden soaks the spill.
The neighbourhood has fled indoors,
and thirsty flowers get their fill.
A grateful garden soaks the spill,
once weak and weary from the heat.
And thirsty flowers get their fill.
They drink up raindrops, plump and sweet.
Once weak and weary from the heat,
at last the plants will have a chance.
They drink up raindrops. Plump and sweet,
the rows of roses seem to dance
At last the plants will have a chance.
Their celebration’s underway.
The rows of roses seem to dance!
A storm can save the summer day.
Their celebration’s underway—
it blankets any hint of blue.
A storm can save the summer day,
depending on your point of view.
a storm can spoil the summer day.
It blankets any hint of blue
beneath a sheath of gloomy grey.
A storm can spoil the summer day.
The spongy pitch and puddled park,
beneath a sheath of gloomy grey.
The sun has quit. The day’s gone dark.
The spongy pitch and puddled park,
deserted. As the thunder roars,
the sun has quit. The day’s gone dark.
The neighbourhood has fled indoors.
Deserted as the thunder roars,
a grateful garden soaks the spill.
The neighbourhood has fled indoors,
and thirsty flowers get their fill.
A grateful garden soaks the spill,
once weak and weary from the heat.
And thirsty flowers get their fill.
They drink up raindrops, plump and sweet.
Once weak and weary from the heat,
at last the plants will have a chance.
They drink up raindrops. Plump and sweet,
the rows of roses seem to dance
At last the plants will have a chance.
Their celebration’s underway.
The rows of roses seem to dance!
A storm can save the summer day.
Their celebration’s underway—
it blankets any hint of blue.
A storm can save the summer day,
depending on your point of view.
Note on the form from Lisa:
This poem is a pantoum. The second and fourth lines of each stanza become the first and third lines of the next, and the first line of the poem is the same as the last. Sometimes the punctuation varies in the repeated lines to change the meaning. Traditionally a pantoum has an ABAB rhyme scheme.
This poem is copyright (©) Lisa Varchol Perron 2024
About the Writer
Lisa Varchol Perron
Lisa Varchol Perron writes children's poetry, picture books, and middle-grade novels. Past and forthcoming publications include The Caterpillar, Highlights Hello, High Five, The School Magazine and children's poetry anthologies. She was a finalist in the 2021 Madness! Poetry tournament for children's poets, and her debut picture book is scheduled for spring of 2023. Lisa lives with her family just outside of Boston, Massachusetts.
