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That Terrible Raging Tempest
I hate tempests, unless I'm cosy in bed.....by poet
The tempest raged around the lighthouse
I was the sentinel of the place, hoping the lights flashed.
Unfortunately, it provided me with very little shelter.
Outside, wild waves pounded the rugged rocks.
Some stinging sleet fell piling up on the ledges,
Penetrating the broken wide wind-broken windows.
Nothing to do but wait till all will be over.
It took some time, and I could not phone my wife.
She would always imagine something bad would take place.
Nothing to do but hope and pray.
Three hours later, I was home and thoroughly drenched.
My bewildered wife looked at me, wondering.
She pushed me under the shower, removed my wet clothes.
Then came warm pyjamas and coffee laced with some alcohol,
Her hopes had weathered fears, her love complete.
Placed 1
Copyright ©
Victor Buhagiar
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