A Rattling Rhyme

STORM ELECTRIC Over there in the hills There’s a flash Giving birth To a sound Like a pulse In the veins of the Earth Echoing From the crags As a drum Beat ahead The condemned On his walk On the morn He would dread Then the fire in the sky As it comes ever close With a crash and a roar Turns a tree Into toast When you walk through a storm Head held down Is it dum To survive Taking care Not advice From a nun? If you’re one Who is blest With a top Like a dome Thank your god That your not One of those With a cone Million volts Coming down from the sky To the ground Will select To anoint Pointed shapes Never round Crises come And they pass So all storms Will be still As the sun Shall illume Linen clouds Wrap the hill Should we fear Tempest break In our world Bringing strife Or perhaps Lift head up Rather dread A bland life 4 March 2020