This Land, The Land
A rumbling and a shaking
The rain heavy
The thunder roaring
Lightning cuts the sky
Trees sway belligerently
Sand and dust
Break the air
The furious wind
Encourages euphoric whims
The rod is blossoming
Pride is budding
Rumour building
Mischief upon mischief
Pounds on the earth
Mischief upon mischief
Mischief has a staircase
Linear patterns
Cascading virtues in blinking imbroglio,
Masquerading piety in a clinking tunnel
Chanting sophistry in dinky dashes
The glass fell
It could not be held
They broke the serenity
With soapy fingers
They grasped the glass
The pieces litter the floor
Another tried to piece the pieces
Which were precariously shaped
And pricked the gatherer at will
What a cock-a-doodle – doo!
Now I look to the Heavens
I see a land
A faraway land
In the distant horizon
Beyond the seas
A great solace
The people a great people
A magnificent race
Beyond the clouds
Beyond the skies
This land, a lofty land
A magnified edifice
Of kaleidoscopic nature
A worthy conglomerate
Of total bliss.
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