The Luncheon of Rains

Like an uninvited guests is begins its course of “sspwwahhh”

And little by little its strength bangs the skies and the earth

For the beloved next is waxing in my shoulder

And the road to the table is next

When the callings of the floods appear

This crisping hope begins to disappear

Like a leaf shelled off its parent so bred into a desperado

Hoping that it was never the luncheon rains

That cuddled the pocket tsunamis

O luncheon rains,

Business has become stuck and the phone calls coming are wilder and cold

Giving new instructions from the resilient boss

That the end is near

That my lucks become as much as milking a hen

And I keep inquisitively looking at the skies counting the unseen stars

Pondering, when will you stop?