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Author: Ron
Started: 14/10/06
Last Edited: 14/10/06
Published: 14/10/06
Revision: 2
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| Holiday Cottage Bembridge, Isle of Wight, UK | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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| Poetry Showcase [Metaphysical] | Moderators for this section: Weaver, ochsterboxter, CadenzRime, Lingua Pura, ososment, carolynrn, Inker |
The GateOutline: Seeing more than just pictures in clouds. I sat and daydreamed all the live-long day, one summer Sunday perched upon a bale of hay. I saw a cloud that was in fact an elephant, triumphant in its trumpeting of ancient songs from Babylon. Then saw it tumble, crumble, rumble into thunder-rubble. There was trouble in the sky. And why? I mused. Then heard the long-used excuses of Kings, singing out their 'woe is me' lament, forgetful now of past torment they wrought upon the folk now unshackled from the yoke. Their plans had been undone and cast far below the warming glow of new sunlight . . . they cowered in fright. While up above and glistening bright in rainbow colours of silken light, the Gate of Heaven opened. And Angels sang of times to come and the glory of the Son that was upon each and every one who had not supported Babylon. |
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