Poetry
Could You Believe! A Tornado in the Kitchen
the curtains flutter, dishes fly
A vortex forms amid the plates,
A whirlwind through the pots and cakes,
The winds of change, they sweep and spin,
A tornado in the kitchen.
The curtains flutter, dishes fly,
As walls and tables start to sigh,
The storm picks up its frenzied pace,
Flour and sugar blur the face.
The window panes begin to bend,
As drawers and spoons become unkenned,
The ceiling fans, they start to wail,
A dizzying, dizzying gale.
The fridge begins to tremble too,
Its contents churn like ocean’s brew,
Cling wrap and foil start to flail,
A spinning, spinning, dizzying tale.
And just as quickly, all is still,
The tornado’s rage begins to spill,
No trace or sign of what has been,
Except a kitchen, newly cleaned.
In the calmness left behind,
One can almost come to find,
A sense of order in a spin,
A peace amid the kitchen’s din.
And though the storm brought quite a fright,
It left a lasting sense of light,
A caution, too, to always be,
Prepared for winds of destiny.
