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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Placed Second in: This or That, Vol. 23 Poetry Contest Sponsored by Edward Ibeh Narrow Margin On the twelfth day and twelfth month of the year, With a gentle drizzle greeting the town, After a downpour for more than an hour, Dark clouds are draping the sky all around. From the shining top of its glorious spire The bell of a neighbouring cathedral, Unique of its kind, has chimed for five times, Heralding the end of the day to all. After a long and hectic day at desk White-coloured folks are hastening away In fear of a much heavier downpour That may flood the streets and impede the way. All the streets are slippery and greasy; The main arteries of the town-city Are jammed and packed to full capacity, With drivers worried how to inch ahead. The street along the city cathedral Is crowded more than any other day, With vehicles treading at toddlers` pace Heading towards the north easterly way. Just at the junction of a one-way street, The driver of a car, stuck in the jam, With his spouse awaits, with patience and calm, For the stream of traffic to move forward. A few yards away, one can eye branches Of a massive tree, from a nearby yard, Overhanging the busy street and leaves Dripping down rain droplets without regard. The driver is on the verge of moving Along the slippery street to the east, When a huge branch from the gigantic tree Hurls down, wrecking two vehicles at least. A feeling of shock invades the driver As the branch miss him by narrow margin; He wonders whether it is coincidence, But his calm and confidence do not flinch. He now heaves a profound sigh of relief, And from the innermost depth of his heart Offers thanks to the Lord: in his belief, It`s a sign of divine grace from the Lord.
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