Another Beauty

Poem By Paige Thomas

Flames whip the air,
The tender wood is burned to a ash,
No time to stop and stare,

The tornado nips at the ground,
as if without a care,
tares the trees from their rest,
No time to stop and stare,

A wave is getting bigger within the sacred sea,
Striking the rocks as if a dare,
it whirls upon its heap,
no time to stop and stare.

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