Storm Doris is
wielding her power today
Even here in
Hampshire’s countryside
Wrenching branches
from winter trees’ grasp
While we
watch, safe and snug, from inside
But I worry
what havoc she’s wreaking
Further north,
with her powers full vent
Is she tearing
my plastic greenhouse to shreds
Are its
precious contents all battered and bent?
The Doris we
know is a kind, gentle soul,
Who is now in
her ninety-third year
I wonder, will
she enjoy having the power
And the fame,
now her named storm is here?
But having
been named and stormed
Can become a
double-edged sword
When with fame
comes grief and lost lives
Then false
pride has its bitter reward;.
‘Valerie’ is
also on this year’s Met list
But my storm
is unlikely to be named
I’m too far
down, twixt Thomas and Wilbert,
The penultimate
– to late to be famed
But, what if I
had the alchemy of storm
Would I use it
for good or for gain?
I would
harness the wind to cool global warming
And bloom the
parched deserts with rain.
3 comments:
So emotive Val. Wish you were here xxx
I found this very interesting. I particularly liked the line "Wrenching branches from winter trees' grasp", very poetic.
I never knew you, Val, but I always find your pieces appealing.
Alex
Love the original train of thought in this, found it quite moving in fact. I have treasured memories of storm Doris, doing Liberty work with my late pony and the indoor school rattling all around us! It was exhilarating and a little scary.
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