Yadi Yadi Yadda
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
as I wait for it to near.
The air is quite oppressive.
Once again it drags its feet.
And I alone am waiting,
anticipating, expecting, a repeate.
Lightning flashes, bright and hurried,
across the Florida sky.
And jostles the world around me,
illuminating seconds, that rock the day goodbye.
I sit and drink the moment,
with my old friend the earth.
And feel refreshed, renewed,
while enjoying its worth.
I call it a storm.
Who needs sunshine always,
that would only make it norm.
Yet, every afternoon, is packed with excitement,
the show varies in size.
Sometimes it lasts forever,
sometimes its over like a sigh.
And every perfect evening will offer,
the promise of the moon.
Sometimes like an expecting mother,
all rounded and full.
Or just barely a sliver of light,
that shines ever so cool. Which happens to be my favorite.