How harsh the rain does lash the cold grey stone,
To wash away life’s footprints of the day,
Malicious ill winds make the lofty groan,
And force the weeping willow low to pray,
An achromatic sadness looms above,
Some eerie sense of loneliness below,
Our panorama, void of nature’s love,
Lends ambience of atmospheric woe,
Directionless, obscurant, billowy,
Gesticulate and morph above the eye,
The bolt and boom strike up a repartee,
Their spiel and thrill illuminate the sky,
In every situation deemed be-night,
There’s hope in every tiny glimpse of light.
Keith Lumbard 16th July 2012
Achromatic = having no hue.
Obscurant = making undecipherable or imperceptible.
Billowy = characterized by great swelling waves or surges.
Be-night = difficult to perceive by sight