Afton

[Atehequa]

Be ever thankful for a clear sunny day
But never expect such fair weather to last
An eastward wind and the sky turns grey
Then a wild savage storm moves in fast

Howling winds, hard rain, thunder and lightning flash
Swiftly make for shelter somewhere high and dry
Through the heavy rain, soaking wet headlong dash
Dodging lightning bolts, flashing death from the dark sky

Swiftly as it came, so passes this storm
Followed not by sunny skies, only dense fog
From drops to streams, pools have been formed
No other soul happier than the chirping Frog

Finding comfort in this fog, I ascend the path
Over the ridge then down, breaking into a run
And ever expecting wild nature’s dark moody wrath
Once again upon the wooded slopes of Afton

[dadio]

Good lyrical poem.