Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Poetry: The Tree House

I guess looking through my old poems sparked the poet within me. For, as I sat looking out my open window at the rain pouring down, I thought about writing another poem, this one about rain. Other than that, I didn't plan it. The story just came out. I'm looking down at the notebook I penned it in, and watching as small raindrops light on its pages. Quite fitting, don't you think?
So here it is, my newest poem. It's called "The Tree House"


The Tree House
By Rae Hitchings

See the dark clouds?
Watch them gather and build
See the darkness up high
Grow and rapidly thrill

The roiling and boiling
Of the darkening sky
The howling and whistling
Of wind on the fly

A storm approaches
And now reigns fierce
A small building cowers
Fraught through with great fear

Two eyes of deep green
Peep from a tight corner
They search for some beauty
But find only horror

She stifles a sob
A tear, smooth, sliding down
She curls up in a ball
Her eyes masking a frown

A great boom and a crash!
The house, it shakes, poor
The windows, they rattle
The boards creak, unsure

Bravely up, stands the girl,
Her hands tightened in fists
Bravely forward, she strikes
Her feet shuffle leaf bits

“My tree house!” she shouts
Little face creased in anger
“My house is my own!
Don’t touch it, you thunder!”

A ribbon of light comes
Clouds parting a moment
A smile, it seems like
From heaven up yonder

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