Tuesday, April 21, 2020

Day the twenty-first

The prompt today is meant to be a homophonic translation - but I am interpreting this a little loosely . . .

When the weather talks . . .

The rain cloud tells us to shelter, and pitter patter
Is not a matter to be considered sufficient
To ditch the um-ber-ella and forget the galoshes
That protect your immortal soul . . .
The blue sky whistles memories into mind now knowing
And echoes the shouts of a beach and sandcastle
Playing of days in the past and promises, perhaps,
Of sun kissed moon washed life again . . .
The howling wind is retching and hurling abuse
At violent misfortune, armed with a bludgeon and
Knife, smashing and slashing the flimsy barriers
Mankind has erected.

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