The Predicament
The rain is falling with such voracity as I poke my head outside to peek.
The wind is blowing so hard I find it difficult to speak.
The wind just shut my door it took it from my hand.
What will I do I ponder as I stand?
I tried to open my door but I couldn’t get a grip.
As I tried to turn the handle but my hand would only slip.
While I stand here wondering what to do.
There’s not a dry spot on my body I’m soaked clean through and through.
All the doors and windows are locked what a predicament I’m in.
The wind is getting cold I have icicles on my chin.
Talk about luck the rain is turning to ice.
Man I wish I hadn’t of stuck my head out I’d be in my house all warm and nice.
Even if I broke a window the burglar bars would keep me out.
Ramming the door would not suffice for it’s much to stout.
And to my nearest neighbor who is only eight miles away.
I holler and I holler but he doesn’t hear a thing I say.
I see a car coming down my lane.
I hope it’s not my imagination, I hope I’m still sane.
Well lucky me he saw my wave.
And as he passed me by a wave he gave.
Now I’m getting real upset.
And a few choice words to him was let.
Wait a second what was that buzz, buzz, buzz?
Why it’s my alarm clock waking me up, it was, it was, it was.
Boy that was a nightmare I just had.
I’m happy it’s over I’m mighty glad.
Copyright © Ronald Bingham | Year Posted 2007
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