The Riling
The Thunder Gods with their sarcastic smiles,
Sleeping in the pits of nature’s wiles,
While seafarers relax and ride with the calm,
Swathing summer’s skin with an exotic balm.
Lazy waves too tired to get up and move
And frolic with the laughing wind and groove,
A dance to the rites of the enthusiastic seas,
A joyful romp with the playful breeze.
Too gentle, too calm, too smooth, too soft,
Fun is a ride with the ominous clouds aloft
Where witches hide and come out to play,
Swirling with the tempest in the heat of the day,
Riling up the calm with their electric arms,
As Mother Nature shows off her many charms.
Beauty is in the madness of
The black and gray above.
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