Barn, In The Shadow Of Fire Poem by Lovita Morang

Barn In shadows of the Fire

In abysmal roar of raging wildfire; I hide my shadow
clamp down to ineffable star- studded show

Disposed by indurate hopes,
Nothing will be uttered in tumultuous trite crops;

I start finding joy in the readiness to leave
In the clamour of conundrum, nothing relives,

I control the defunct rays of reappraisal's claws
Rearmingthe shard of sharp-limbed shadows,

I recite my woe betide to wilt,
Flood water left nothing for my field but silt,

Still, wrench free to waddle in wondrouswolds
This is my beautiful world.

Triumphal trees of triffid weedles my wishes and desires,
Tales of Troubadour trodden balming my barn, now my shadow's attire is this colours of fires.

- Lovita J R Morang