No Clouds In Sight

Today, I was determined to fly a kite; There was plenty of wind with no clouds in sight. Strenuously I checked the strength of the twine; I didn’t want any troubles fouling up my line. The knots that I tied were quite snug; Each line was checked with a mighty tug. Then I attached an elongated tail To the kite’s bamboo frame with a trusty nail. The kite’s blue silk was speckled with dots, Like blue cheese with a bunch of white spots. I picked up the kite; I started to run; As I fed out some line, the kite soared straight for the sun; I could only squint as I felt the sun’s rays; It scorched my inquisitive gaze. Suddenly, I felt an uncomfortable lurch As the kite fell from its lofty perch; I raised the bobbin in the opposite direction, Quite certain I made the appropriate correction. As time marched by, the sun’s glow faded; Threatening clouds sprang up deeply shaded. The warm air vanished; the wind began to howl; The lightning was on the prowl. The kite began to yaw; the sky to fall; Like a numbing dread came the squall. Torrents of rain thrashed against my face; Nothing dry was left to chase. Lightning stretched across the angry sky; After a pause, there was a thunderous cry. I never before lost a kite, nor did I set one adrift into the night. If the line is cut would that be right? Kneeling in the freezing mud, I rewound the twine; Yet, when my fingers numbed; I cut the line. Suddenly, not ten feet from my right was a bright streak of light; It plunged into the mud with a great fright. Bobbin in hand, I dashed for my car; I didn’t get far; I slipped in the mud wounding my pride with a scar. Safely in the warmth my car, I rested; slowly I closed my eyes, I then realized that my life was the prize.