Though The Oak Wept, And The Tall Fir Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

Though the oak wept, and the tall fir
shoke in the burden of the gale,
though a star neared a tall elm,
planted long ago by British hands in
a Mediterranean clime.

struck loud the thunder, screeched
the ominous lightning, the palace of the
stars was full or argument

this night was full, cup to the brim,
control over, Prometheus shook his fists,
and the sun from afar saw its watch
saw that it was hours away
from its mid-day glory and smiled.