Storm

May 13, 2009
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The sun warms the pavement,
Heat rises on the children.
They pant as they run bases,
What a perfect day for baseball.

The sky begins to darken,
Wind starts to whoosh!
A tree tumbles down,
The children sprint for cover

Drip, drop, Drip, drop
The rain starts slow, then pours.
Gushing down gutters,
Sewers slurp it up as it trucks on by.

The deed is done!
The kids come out of hiding,
To finish their baseball game.
But the wind has whooshed away their bases-oh dear!





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SilverDawn said...
Jul. 13, 2009 at 2:21 pm
cute, contrasting to the serious poems that usually kind of dominate people's poetic minds x) but we always need something everday-like to calm ourselves down, right? too much emotion can kill! i personally don't like baseball much. btw, i think you're missing a word in the line about trucks. nice poem!
 
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