Flood

WRITTEN FOR SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS

FLOOD

Rain is sweet and gentle

When it falls upon the earth.

When the soil is dry and lifeless

Rain brings new life to birth.

We could not live without it;

We welcome its gentle  touch,

But oh what a different story

When the sky sends down too much!

Crops are drowned in silver ,

Rivers break their banks;

We race away from the element

For which we once gave thanks.

Destructive, horrifying,

Dealing death along the way.

Something sweet or terrible........

Another rainy day.
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SLEEPING ORANGE

The colour trumpets brilliance;

The shades make us alert. 

Sometimes it is so vivid

That it almost seems to hurt.

Restful? I hardly think so!

Soporific? This I doubt.

How can ones spirit whisper

When surroundings seem to shout?

Ah, but think about 'cosy',

Think again about 'snug',

The warmth of the colour orange

Is something like a hug.

And, then, consider waking

In an orange-coloured room.

When the curtains and the covers

Seem to drive away the gloom.

Outside it may be raining

The skies may be dark grey

But a bedroom splashed with orange

Creates a sunny day.
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