The Storm

The Storm was fierce with deadly winds that pointed to a farmland,
that once was filled with life, and love, a farmer’s precious homeland;
but droughts had hit and done their deeds, and things began to die,
and all the prayers to no avail brought water from the sky.
The farmer’s plight was very sad, and caused a flood of grieving,
and many poor almost broke, had frequent thoughts of leaving;
but then the winds dug up a path that headed north and went upon its way,
and formed what looked to some, quite clear, a perfect water way.
With winds all passed, silence returned except for one soft calming sound;
a strange and gushing noise it was, like music all around.
The sad old farmers all came out to see the Storm’s real damage,
but all they saw was one long trench, and things that they could manage.
And then the gushing sound grew loud, and eyes all turned,
to view the northern mountain, and down it came, all fresh and clean, like water from a fountain.
The farmers shocked and filled with joy in this their golden hour,
gave thanks and praise unto the Storm and to the Higher Power.

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Warren P Padla

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majored in journalism at NYU in the 50s; received my masters in business from there and worked for Equitable Life in NY for many years. When retired entered antique business and real estate; retired to Massachusetts and Florida; currently do a lot of volunteer work. Friends forced me into poetry due to much writing I had sent to them over the years. So I joined High On Poems. the end, warren
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Mario S. C. Tall

Warren we read them all, very creative. Excellent.



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