Cruel Is The Mother
Cruel is the mother whose hands rip and rupture the earth
Cruel is the mother whose gaze freezes water
Cruel is the mother whose breath blows down forests
Cruel is the mother whose tears are torrents flooding the lands
Cruel is the mother whose mouth spits fire into the air
Cruel is the mother whose footsteps flatten mountains
Cruel is the mother whose great arms create great waves
Cruel is the Mother, that Mother of Nature.
John Rice
The author encourages parents, teachers and librarians to read the poems to children and young people. However, the poems are copyright John Rice 2014 and cannot be reproduced without the express permission of the author.
Random Poetry!
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Madverbs
He frightened all the birds, scarecrowishly. Her hobby was riding horses, hobbyhorsically.
They enjoyed camping, intentsly.
He walked through the fog, mysteriously.
He stamped his foot, ground-breakingly.She sat on the chair, deep-seatedly.
They bounded across the field, grasshopperly.
She splashed about in puddles, wellingtonly.
She sprinkled herbs on her pasta, gingerly.He tramped along the trunk road, elephantically.
She hobbled along the mountain path, walking-stickly.
He grabbed the steering wheel, clutchingly.
She appeared in a camping commercial, inadvertently.
He held in his hand a book of scary stories, grippingly.She tended the garden, sluggishly.
He backpacked across the galaxy, star-trekkingly.
Her soup was so hot, pipingly.
She bopped and boogied all night long, foxtrotingly.
She walked across the beach, flipfloppily.He slipped on the ice, skiddingly,
and broke his arm, humourously.
He put his clothes in the washing machine, tubdrumtuckly.
John Rice
The author encourages parents, teachers and librarians to read the poems to children and young people. However, the poems are copyright John Rice 2014 and cannot be reproduced without the express permission of the author.
