Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling has given the rights to Harry Potter to Scholastic Books, Bloomsbury Books, the WB, and to a few others, not to me.
Author's Note: This was just a little bit of fun I had with symbolism and poetry while my father yelled at me to push the vacuum cleaner and get to work, because company was arriving in a couple of hours. I wrote it a couple of months ago and am just getting around to posting it. Enjoy!
Dedication: This fic is dedicated to Diri, whose stories: Weasley, Ron Weasley and its sequel, The Man With The Golden Wand should be checked out promptly at www.fictionalley.org in Riddikulus under 'Diricawl'.
Thunderstorm
He looked at her.
She looked at him.
The earth spun into the moon.
Gray touched orange.
Brown stroked gray.
Currents quickened.
Gray attacked brown.
Brown fluttered away.
The leaves rustled.
Milk dripped with water.
Ivory twisted in amusement.
He departed.
Tinged pink flowed into a smirk.
Rose bit back, hard.
Anticipated the storm.
Ivory rose high into the air.
Milk scowled.
Nothing.
Milk stretched.
Ivory skimmed.
To.
Gray scanned the skies.
The clouds multiplied above him.
Lose.
Ivory advanced.
Brown tested.
Flutter.
Gray covered.
Brown braced.
Storm winds blew.
Gray darkened.
Brown transformed.
Tumbling thunder drew nearer.
Red questioned.
Silver filmed carelessly as oil.
Electric charge.
Grasses reached.
Trees extended.
Gales blustered wayward.
Gray glared.
Brown flickered.
The sun peeked through.
Ivory pushed.
Milk pulled.
Sensory particles paused.
One last whirl.
One last break.
Flash.
Contact.
Melt.
Crackle.
She breathed him.
He touched her.
Attract.
Clouds enveloped the sky.
Gray beckoned the brown.
Ivory milk.
Draco unclasped.
Ginny fell down.
Thunderstorm.