Solace

Frozen hailstones
Hurting flowers of corn
A storm blowing,
Sings its discordant melody
Buds hurt, but joyous
By tears of rain

Freeing the little buds
With the melody unsung
Fantasized in little minds
Germinating, creating,
A love beyond
The storm’s creation...

Fumes of fervour fade and fly as fancy
Yet breeze of love  strings tune  
to petals of blooming mind.