All my friends, not to worry, this is not now. I had to drum up feelings of my childhood to write this. I am fine.       floria

Angry River Of Words

The angry river rages on the rocky coast,
Rushing violently and breaking against the shore.
Cold and threatening in it's thrust of movement,
Oh, to be a seagull that I might soar.

To rise above and fly away into infinity.
And not be bruised by cruel words of anger.
And beaten down and battered against the rocks.
But fly from all impending threat of danger.

How cruel are words as furious as the waters.
And dark and heavy clouds that hover overhead.
That threaten with more violence and storms of thunder.
Refuse to stop until they know I am dead.

Where is my refuge, what place that I might hide?
Dark caverns dug deep within this earth.
Where I might now descend to never more return.
Perhaps not even one would recall my day of birth.

Oh raging waves of life that beat the soul.
And wear it down that it no more may breathe.
But take away each thing that makes me whole.
And cover me with dark and deadly sheath.

Floria Kelderhouse
© 2002