Medusa's Locks
Thrashing like Medusa's locks,
water-whipped kelp lash, and flay.
And angry waves pummel rocks,
morphing into a salt spray.
The sky's a cauldron of clouds,
filled with a seething witch's brew.
And heaven's draped in dark shrouds;
not a single star shines through.
As lightning ignites the dark,
thunderclaps make the ground quake.
And gusty winds leave their mark
as debris swirls in their wake.
The moon, a shade of curie,
can't pierce the clouds with its beam.
And trees fearing its fury,
bow when the storm gets extreme.
The wind wails throughout the night,
filling rivers with its tears.
And exhausted, by dawn's light;
it suddenly disappears.
(Quatrain)
2/27/2015
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
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