GLAD I’M NOT HERE (2019)
Wind howls like a giant – snoring
Rain whips the grass in it’s downpouring
No animals – all scurried out of sight
Nibbling mice – await the dawning light
Scarecrows remain stiff as brushes
Despite the wind – they stand against it’s rushes
No respite from the week-long deluge
The sun playing tricks through subterfuge
A ray of hope intermittently rationed-out
Then disappears – throwing us back into doubt
Will this last much longer?
I’m glad I vacated to Tonga
“I’m glad I vacated to Tonga.” My guess is, that in the world’s long history, these precise words have never been uttered … until your poem!
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Indeed – definitely poetic licence as I’ve never been there…😎😇
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