Monday, July 16, 2007

THE STORM

White driven snow
Steered by winds gone mad
Piling up treacherously.
Cars strewn over city streets,
Like so many fallen kingpins,
Nature unaware of spring, of time,
Spewing forth its bile.
People walking with averted heads,
Stumbling to warm sanctuary.
Shopkeepers cursing the snow,
Children filled with joy,
Canceled learning, watching from warm havens,

Nevertheless one must glory
In the majesty of nature,
Rejoice in the sheer beauty,
White snow, havoc and beauty
Embracing, uncaring.

Glory be damned,
Give me golden suns,
Give me warm embraces.
I’m so cold, so cold, so weary.
I wanna go home to mummy.

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