Second Coming

Fusillade! The thunder throbbed merrily As the grassy hay in the stable clamped the baby lad Involuntarily, intoxicated tears started running mad Huge hand stroke beard, eyes lashes blushed wearily. Rambling on tarragon path with lively pasture Glaring, jealous eyes creep-ed, must be the son of the herdsman, Who tickled the plants, poked the animals and sent obloquy to man They engraved a cave, o! Capture that creature. He must not stay, a mutant from the pit of sea Mistrial, voices rattled, real alien some tittle-tattled, Shackles raised, skin bruised, gallows set, parents fled, Thunder scared, cloud dark and disdain, lightening too blind to see. Just infusion, the choric birds racked bitterly, He will be back, majestically.