Interlude
Posted: Sat Apr 06, 2013 12:14 pm
I can see dark storm clouds squalling and in flooded streets cars stalling.
Red reflections on the damp road of each flickering tail light.
All around on footpaths busy of this huge and bustling city
there are folks with their umbrellas overwhelmed by natures plight.
Silver shafts of rain are falling and the noise is quite appalling -
a relentless pounding, sounding like a gone mad metronome.
Everywhere gutters are filling and over footpaths spilling
and the river now resembles cappuccino topped with foam..
The Wivenhoe is fleeing from the grey walls of her prison
'cross the sluice gates that are opened now to help with her escape;
and her waters brown and muddy, turgid – stream along the gully
heading seaward to the ocean – turning lowland into lake.
As the strong winds now are blowing, seems that Mother Nature knowing
of what's yet to come, is pounding all before her till it breaks.
Big branches trees are now throwing - shedding dead wood , and the soughing
of the wind through leaf stripped tree limbs gives us human folks the shakes.
For there's talk of cyclones coming, hear the veritable drumming
of rain beating staccato rhythm 'gainst windows and doors.
Nature’s symphony of wildness – she is hardly at her mildest
when she ushers in the summer storms to thunderous applause.
Maureen Clifford ©
Red reflections on the damp road of each flickering tail light.
All around on footpaths busy of this huge and bustling city
there are folks with their umbrellas overwhelmed by natures plight.
Silver shafts of rain are falling and the noise is quite appalling -
a relentless pounding, sounding like a gone mad metronome.
Everywhere gutters are filling and over footpaths spilling
and the river now resembles cappuccino topped with foam..
The Wivenhoe is fleeing from the grey walls of her prison
'cross the sluice gates that are opened now to help with her escape;
and her waters brown and muddy, turgid – stream along the gully
heading seaward to the ocean – turning lowland into lake.
As the strong winds now are blowing, seems that Mother Nature knowing
of what's yet to come, is pounding all before her till it breaks.
Big branches trees are now throwing - shedding dead wood , and the soughing
of the wind through leaf stripped tree limbs gives us human folks the shakes.
For there's talk of cyclones coming, hear the veritable drumming
of rain beating staccato rhythm 'gainst windows and doors.
Nature’s symphony of wildness – she is hardly at her mildest
when she ushers in the summer storms to thunderous applause.
Maureen Clifford ©
