Hold On and Steer
When the unforeseen mistrel swipes the land,
tiny warriors trudge against the force.
“Back down! Retreat!”, the general commands.
The musketeers recoil back on course.
Then the torrent readily disembarks,
the entire army rolls up horse and foot.
A few lucky ones hop on Noah’s ark,
their chiseled armors soaked with sludge and soot.
When many lightning bolts descend to strike,
the runnel puts on a golden brown cloak,
keep spinning to show and tell, like a tyke.
Unheeded, the beast goes berserk and croaks.
Then emerges an ugly tsunami,
too marred, the canoe gives in to this strife.
Unyielding, the orts repair unity,
primed to take it down head-on with their lives.
When the wreckage is wrecked with such a flair,
then their raw thumbs stands upright in the air.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
