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Poem

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.

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