A summer squall is rolling in
A subtle draft, a pleasant breeze,
has turned into a broiling thing
of heated words and brimming tears.

The pressure builds and peace is rent,
the squall pulls in a thousand thoughts
from petty showers not quite yet spent
and love is lost, as battle’s fought.

But like, some old heroic tale
of Gods or Titans locked in war
This summer squall begins to fall;
cool tears, warm limbs, and love once more.