Blasted air beneath pewter skies,
hectic before the roiling onslaught; juggernaut,
flotsam in the spitting wind, made sport
by this rapacious quest in nature’s guise
to ransack, poach, and pulverize.
Bruising rain in every fissure caught
as I stumble forward, abject, distraught ~
a desolate waif with desolate cries.
Then, like a beacon, came a wall.
Scrambling, scrabbling, finding purchase to flip
into the lee. Sweet relief in ancient stones,
irascible, immoveable guardian ship;
my sanctuary in this almighty squall,
chafing the chill from chattering bones.
A contest entry
- Rhyme and Flow part 6 The Wall - 50,000 points series by cricketjeff.
4000 points, ended August 1, 34 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Thank you for your entry in the contest. A very interesting poem with a good rhyme scheme although we found the flow and meter were erratic in places.
All the best ... Sue and Jeff
-
Splendid write-feeling mighty wind blown here!!!
Words most succinct!!
Love Hilly xxxx -
Powerful with a Shakespearian edge. Quite a storm you brewed here. I've had similar experiences out on the Fells. Well done poetess!
Adding your comment:
