Warm ocean breezes stir green fronds,
and whisper something oft foretold.
While cloudless skies form secret bonds,
the notions of storms to extol.

The wind becomes an angry gale,
its warning heaved with each bold gust.
Serene waves crash and farther swell,
with each defiance spurning trust.

Amid the havoc, lessons learned,
the price to pay for selfish whims.
A dearth of wisdom overturns,
the early years of life and limb.

So storms may hide and come and stall,
but nature never yields its throne.
The message now an urgent call,
its echo heard and stands alone.

Author’s Notes:

Poetic form: Quatrain, Meter: iambic tetrameter

Artwork by: Eleanor J. Graham

Write a Review

[site_reviews_form assigned_posts=”post_id”]

[site_reviews assigned_posts=”post_id”]