Wildfire

December winds blow hot and strong
the winter rains were sparse
The forest floor is tinder dry
the fields devoid of grass

The crack of thunder fills the air
and lightning strikes the ground
The hint of rain is everywhere
but not a drop is found

All at once a spark takes life
the fire begins to burn
A wildfire racing on a ridge
the wind begins to turn

Twigs turned dry by summer sun
now crackle pop and hiss
Flames reach high into the trees
and n’ere a one is missed

Wallaby and emu run
and flee the roaring sound
The wombat now cannot escape
his prison under ground

As snake and lizard perish
the fire becomes a storm
it rages down the hillside
as fire devils form

And all at once as all seems lost
the rain begins to fall
A million drops caress the ground
and quench the fire ball

The blackened vegetation
still smolders from the heat
and scenes of devastation
now mark the fire’s retreat

But soot and rain will nourish
the much depleted earth
Plants once again will flourish
in nature’s own rebirth.

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Comments

  • Thomas Davis  On December 11, 2011 at 2:23 am

    This is great stuff in the old style.

    • livingwithtwins  On December 11, 2011 at 11:29 am

      Thanks. I enjoy reading the work of the old bards and try to capture a bit of their style in my own work.

  • kvennarad  On December 11, 2011 at 5:59 am

    Good use of ‘English Hymn Metre’.

    M

    • livingwithtwins  On December 11, 2011 at 11:35 am

      I have to admit not knowing anything technical about writing ballads. It all just pops into my head as I write.

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