2 of 32

by Ethel Smith

The water keeps on
pouring down,
the heavens open
and I fear we'll drown .
The water rises
all around,
there's nowhere dry
not an inch of ground.

Day turns to night
and still it comes
driving rain,
down the road it runs.
The night turns cold
the wind it blows
but still the rain
pours like a hose.

Just as we fear
it will never end
but flood our home,
drive us round the bend,
it starts to ease,
slows to a patter
the water drops
and it starts to scatter.

Drying up, when
everywhere's so mucky
will take for ever
but we have been lucky.
Some have suffered
with loss of life,
so inconvenience is
little strife.

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Poetry: Natural disasters

by Ethel Smith

Poetry: Natural disasters

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