A Voice in the Thunder


In response to this week’s Quirky Humans and their Poesy poem challenge, for the word prompt: Mask

Here’s my poem.

The Voice In the Thunder

Rolling thunder,

High above.

Don’t ask me why,

I really don’t know,

The matter with the sky.

I watch people here and there,

Some with coats and some bare.

Appearing with dignity and looking sane,

Not bothered about the rain.

All busy in their tasks,

But I’m not ready to wear that mask!

The rain rattles on the window sill,

A voice pleasant and low,

Calls me to the puddles.

Forgetting all the life’s hurdles,

I rush, to find who called me.

Dashing through people,

Who are weird to see.

With possessions glittering and rich,

Some French and others Dutch.

But who is one who called me?




2 Comments Add yours

  1. iScriblr says:


    Liked by 1 person

    1. frothywinter says:

      Thank you!


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