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Ere some three or four-odd days
Began our nature show some craze.
The people, truly afraid, to say,
Nowhere did find a place to stay.

The initial portension was a fire,
That left a pile of ashes and mire,
But no one knew whose was this ire,
That made our town a devil’s pyre.

Trembled, trembled everything!
And to and fro moved all the things,
That was bound by the earth insane,
Thus on the floor they’re strewn and lain.

I stared at the top of the furniture,
And heaved to find their stately nature,
Then moments fleeted in a quiet,
With farms and huts, being fine and trite.

No longer, though, prevailed this calm;
Crescendoed slowly omen’s hum;
Inaudibly was audible
That faintest screech of the strongest rebel.

On all directions fetish hung
To combat dread that evil flung,
And worshipped Christ’s generous hand,
“O save Thou us, our potent friend!”

But sinner must be most of them,
Or why from God did these trials stem?
Or not Him, but a freak of evil,
Did hurl a woe, so grand and ill?

There blew no air, but still fell down,
Glasses brought from a Chinese town,
A pair of steady dolls, whom loved
My cousin, she them fondly preserved.

That evil day finally came,
No man stayed outside, nor a dame;
The children too did stop their game,
Little children, hard to tame.

They all were scared, and none did dare
To foretell what was in the air,
Uncanny stench was all felt there,
In dense settlement and fields bare.

“See, quiver, quiver all the things!
The church-bell timid itself rings!”
And wandered lonely a frightened man,
Oft he strolled and oft he ran.

My mother prophesied a ghoul
That might again on mankind drool,
Had overwhelmed us with spells of terror,
And in this way our sin did mirror.

But as far as can I recall,
A graceful sphinx of the palace hall,
That burnt and turned into baleful earth,
Wrought a mishap in highest mirth!

13th February, 2020
Let the Pens Flow - Narrative Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Jenish Somadas
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