THE STORM

THE STORM

By Cecy Gaitho

In the sky so high,

The night dark with unforetold fears,

The lightning occasionally sending its warning,

That the storm is nigh,

Little children clasp at their mothers in tears,

Afraid of the storm that is coming.

 

The rains won’t stop,

Neither will the temperatures drop,

The season of the heavy rains is here,

We are left with nothing to bear,

The rain’s destroyed our livelihood,

Gone is all that was good.

 

We look around for help,

Cursing the “curse” of the rain,

The country’s as bad as Hades,

For all the lives lost, all we bear is pain,

Of losing our mates,

And for breaking our hope.

 

A new dawn is finally here,

Our lives must continue at all cost,

The loss shall not easily wear,

We shall forever blame the rain for the lives lost,

Gratefully, we shall welcome the summer,

Even though the sun’s a degree warmer.

 

©Wanjiku Gaitho2018

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