Donations are essential to keep Write Out Loud going    

To the Rescue

                                                            To The Rescue

 

 

 

            On certain days, it never

Ceased to drizzle,

The break in cloud, the days of

Sunshine more uncertain

Than his political convictions!

 

 

            The conversations always

Mocked him, for there would be

Days he would dress for winter and;

     The Sun would briefly show itself,

Making parodies of his intuitions persistence.

 

 

     How he often fooled himself.

 

 

            The days he loathed the most;

The days the full picnic basket never

Left the house - his plans, like puddles

Of confusion in his thoughts;

Wreaking havoc in his conscience,

Swamped by inaccurate conclusions -

Giving way to contusions of his mind.

 

 

            Then there were the days he let

The Man upstairs himself be host,

Neither rain nor shine but both;

     On these days,

When all the political tongues

For once ‘shut up,’

The world would cease its

Incessant contradictions,

And on these days he would smile,

Beholding all the colours of a Rainbow,

Glad he never knew it all,

Gladder still to be alive.

 

 

 

Michael J Waite 29th December 2009

◄ Merry Christmas

SITREP! ►

Comments

Profile image

Jeff Dawson

Sun 14th Feb 2010 12:20

Hi MIke, really enjoyed this narrative type thing, thoughts I sometimes have but don't have time to think about them if you know what I mean, cheers Jeff

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message