Dancing mist on Chattahoochee
Breathed deep the old Oak tree
Whiffed the spirit full of memory
Then sparked the lightening horizontally:
This illumination did imply
September rain threateningly
Across the ever present sky
Rolled delayed, thunder, crash.
Chattahoochee breathed long and deep
Whilst an updraft northern wind did creep
Banishing quickly the stagnant air:
As a bug army chattered nervously
One last doomed communiqué
One last cricket chirps merrily
Mighty the Oak stands firmly
Leaves rustle, tumble with ease
Fall on Chattahoochee's meandering flow
© Calac.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fine craftmanship. Great pacing and bright, engaging vocabulary and rhythm. Good poetry.