Whitewashed walls, fresh paint year on year
Dry stone walls herd rapids, don’t run wild.
“Floods hit this town” yon tourists flocked to hear,
“Waters ran from yonder hills”. Man and child
Sought safety, rooftops, high ground far and near.
Only the brave, or foolish, as big butch Oscar Wilde
Stayed low as waters rushing passed, cleared
Shop signs, chairs and cars until, all was reconciled.
Winds raise the sea and waves rush in and smash,
But summer’s beauty, like the softest velvet kiss
Rebuts the storm, a distant memory, in a flash
Maelstrom launched from mind to yonder abyss.
Thousands of miles the Swallow comes to dash
And dance, and swoop and sway. Would be remiss
If bells and drums stayed silent, hit and bash,
Rejoice, embrace this softest velvet bliss.
Pop along to http://dversepoets.com/ and have a look at some wonderful Odes – thanks for the prompt Gay !! I was very much “out of my comfort zone” but thoroughly enjoyed writing this one 🙂