Precipitation without life's synthetic
Multicoloured eye piercing shields
Is simply wet and cold
An encumbering inconvenience
To another mundane day
It's lemon drop melt
It's pensive pooling into iridescent dilute expanses
Is an embellishment by the otherwise content
Adornment of the conscious
Those that countenance crashing waves
That temper shore and seduce valiant rock
Have never meandered the weed-pocked pathways permeated by the stench
of seweage outlets
Nor been pinned by force of nature to said intrepid geological
wonders
Beneath the cerulean depths lay precipitous swathes of deleterious
bile
Contaminated aquatic life and a mountainous compass
Of sufficient discarded shopping trolleys and man's varied debris
To breathe new life and concept to otherwise placated fish
Yes, when life's, being is lifted momentary from this ruinous sphere it
may patter its appeasing rhythm
Oceans will rise to pendulous pinnacle
But for how long?
lex ?03
