It was a wicked storm that time
The red dirt turned into dust
It covered everything it saw
Our world looked just like rust
It looked like a volcano
Blew its top and spouted red
But it wasn’t a volcano
It was a dust storm instead
Our earth looked like another
Why Steve was just a child
He looked around astonished
The weather was so very wild
Everything was unrecognizable
Layered with this tarnished red
Just didn’t seem possible
It was something we truly dread
But you know, you do whatever
You have to with the conditions
Brush things off and go on
With nature you’re in submission!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You can say that again. And we've got those frightening twisters..sure there's no ocean and not many mountains but we've got our own variations of all the weather found on earth..(smile)