Violent Squall

by

Teri Muszak

The raging outside is hungry for meat,
A crashing of thunder, a lightning streak.
No sign of remorse for the broken or thin,
Letting loose like a war freed from within.

I take shelter below in my quilted down cave,
As darkness surrounds I attempt to be brave.
But the great roar is deafening on the tin roof,
Like one hundred horses on thundering hoof.

I grow tiresome from that monotonus beat,
To fantasy land without counting sheep.
Lovely that sound of the beating war drum,
Awaiting the future of years to come.

I sleep in my peace 'til awake with a start,
Content with only the beat of my heart.
The rain now is done, the water did sow,
And up in the sky behold, a rainbow.

NEXT?
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by: Simon Wilkins
from: Melbourne, Victoria, AU

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