Author Hilda Conkling The dark cloud raged.Gone was the morning light.The big drops darted down:The storm stood tall on the rose-trees:And the bees that were getting honeyOut of wet roses,The hiding bees would not come out of the flowersInto the rain. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments