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the storm
by ernest reed wale

A storm blew in a angry mist 
across an angry sea, 
it transformed to a raging mist 
that transforms you and me.

You fly high in deep blue skies 
with wings and angel hair, 
and I don't have the wherewithal 
to get from here to there.

God set our clocks at different times, 
so never can we be. 
But when we die our souls will merge 
through all eternity.
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Poem ID: 87936   Poem Posted: 6/7/2013
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Copyright , 2009, ernest reed wale  all rights reserved by the author.
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