The Persistent Guardian
Midst the violent summer storm’s wrath,
He stood on the front porch fearlessly.
In the thunder roar or lightning strike,
Unafraid, he stood stoically.
When enquired, no direct answer came.
Daring stunt or curiosity,
A meteorological game.
Why put his life in such jeopardy?
Inside the house was another scene,
His wife and children were cowering.
On a bed mattress of coiled steel springs,
An antenna of sorts for lightning
Despite all pleas for him to retreat,
Boldly, he gazed at the angry sky.
Until the storm played its last drumbeat,
He bade it a respectful goodbye.
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