The Tide

Send us Fan MailThe TideIn the morning darkness,high on the hill tops in the storming tide of wind, the high elms bend and twist, in the greateninggusts of a rising gale, and above,in a handful of blackand wings a throw of criesa great flock of shadowsslew, slip and fall,as rooks in spits and spirits, peel and spinagainst the invisible darkness, against the broken sky.And far below, far along the sunken lanes, and through the tossing rage of hedges, the first dawn falls in a flurry and flood, a tumble of sticks and leaves.and rides. For the moon,above,has been blown over-tilting the sinking earth,wrecking the skies, sending clouds,left chasing in the empty calls, of willful winds,And there across the winter darkness, and still furtherthe villages and towns crouch and shelter, hidden, blinded, from the blasts of early morning rain. Engulfed, by the topsy-turvytruth of tides. the waves of rain,beat in thunders across the lowland plain, with howls and shrieks of complaints, the telegraph wires whine and whinny,in horses criesto shout againwill the morning ever rise?And in the end against the quaking,the rattling earth, the embattled rage, of dawning skies, the quickening fists of trees, behind the wall of hills and darkness, the sun struggles to rise and lift, the dawn and heave,for therein mud and swollen streamreturning river, and emptying seathe storm does blow,lost to me.Feel free to contact me. Be nice to know who my audience is and perhaps you can suggest some further topics or themes for my writing! And do give me [email protected]