The heavy rains had at finally passed
and it was the new Sun’s turn to shine
The little man looked up and out from under
his protective toadstool, his tiny eyes beaming
with the anticipation his big heart had felt when last
he’d known his world safe; when any trace
of the Giants had all but been destroyed
by the flood and aftereffects of their deadly sins…
He had seen them coming from afar one day
with their flags flying high and he could hear
their drum beats of war and death; he shook
from the shockwaves they caused afoot.
He trembled but did not run from the onslaught of evil;
he knew birds would be birds and men would be men
and both would squawk and talk about
the worlds impending doom, but to him all was simple.
And so it was, when on that day, alas
the little man could again look up and out
from under his protective toadstool
and could witness the skies opening up to the heavens;
his frailties all still intact and yet it seemed there was
not a predator to be found…
2008 © T Sheridan
Ted...This is work well crafted, indeed...And, as much of your work does, this piece too smacks of classical flavor....Sterling Write, Mr. Sheridan! ~ FjR ~ ..2008..
Roosevelt said it best? 'The only thing to fear - - is fear, itself? ' That last line just says it all, doesn't it? Not a predator to be found...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very good Ted, a real pleasure to read! ! ! *10*! ! Best regards, Friend Thad