All was quiet at first,
The water calm, and wind silent,
Looming over the horizon,
A Thunderhead awaits,
For the perfect moment to let loose its furry.

The wind picks up,
Moving in an odd direction for this place,
The water acting as if a whirlpool had occurred,
Rain pouring down in buckets.

A swirl occurs with the rain,
The wind moving circular,
Lightning scorching the sky,
The water steadily gets rougher,
The wind and lightning breaking trees,
Thunder growling and roaring.

The power flutters and phases,
Until it finally dispersed and vanished,
Though the light is missed,
The sound was drowned.

The Lightning was to strike four times a minutes,
Thunder never able to halt,
A loud blast up above,
Could still be heard for many a second,
Rumbling around the enclosed lake.

Soon things began to clear,
The Mighty Storm departing,
For it had plans to cross the state,
Before the day was at rest.

This storm was indeed a true storm that happened on Friday while i was at camp, and by the time i got power back at the camp the storm had hit Bangor, Maine. This part of the storm happened at Madawaska Lake, Maine, and was one of the first places to get hit. the storm hit at about 12:30 and reached Bangor at 8PM