~A Tale Of Precipitation~
Careening clouds catch condensation
careful to clutch them close,
like children clinging to cotton comfort
of mothers clothes.
Those fearful floods of fountain tears
forlorn in freefall, face uncertainty.
Failure of fortitude fading
as freedom faintly calls,
how haunting the hollow rush
of howling speed hangs,
half horrified how hills grow huge;
hallowed halls of home.
Quickening now, quadratic quotations
quell quaint quivering,
as like quiver-less arrows they sprawl,
their quittance still to pay.
Rigid resolve rallies, radically rekindling
objective to ram themselves,
roaring into the rivers reality where
nothing but ripples remain.
Copyright © Colin Marschall | Year Posted 2008