MercurialA Poem by PeteIf Nature is our mother, then God is our father. - ThoreauAlluring but temperamental. Preciously environmental. Does a tree not lament when it loses a limb? The wind not shriek as it's whipped into a frenzy, hastening its pace? The tide argues for right of way - in, out, in, out as its tired legs sway, not wanting to oblige the moon, yet there is no other way. Does the rain not weep and pour out its troubles, as the size of its puddle doubles? The sun glows with red hot anger in a summer swelter. Only the shade providing a reasonable shelter. Winter withholds warm friendship in a frozen chill. Its hardened water providing the only thrill. They indigo sky hides behind sombre clouds. Like mourners at a funeral wearing sorrowful shrouds. Night shuts out day by stomping its feet in an angry fit. Demanding its way if only for just a little bit. Darkness has the right to draw its curtain. Of this you can be certain. Does not a magnetic north point the borial way? So that we find our way? A fine woman can be moody. As she performs her diligent duty. Mother Nature has an arduous job so let us try to understand if she is occasionally ... ... mercurial ... © 2019 PeteAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on June 19, 2019 Last Updated on June 21, 2019 AuthorPeteBoston, MAAboutI love reading, writing, music, nature, God and feeling emotion, not necessarily in that order. To me, these things go hand in hand. My favorite writer is Henry David Thoreau. I think he was a geni.. more..Writing
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