Volcanic Myth
Volcanic Myth
Hard hitting hammer
sparking pyroplastic flows.
Blowing bellows stoke
billowing pillars of fire.
Ash and cinders, remains
of dying white hot coals
pushed violently skyward
cover all in a drab gray.
The earth trembles and shakes
as mighty Vulcan grunts
with each swing of his
muscular arm.
Fiery jets of flame
spew from his pot
as he anneals iron
in the bubbling cauldron.
As he works, torrents
of sweat flow in to the
fire, hissing and steaming
clouds of vapor vented to the sky.
When he tires, or the last
iron has been cast. The fires
are banked and temblors
cease.
Mighty Vulcan rests for
now. Waiting for the next
call from the Gods. Waiting to
vent his wrath once more.
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