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To Weather A Storm

Rain fall and tides high and

wind blows leaf and hair

I sit. Through whip and wave

I only hope to bend.

As strands pull and prod,

A drive to act hardly fair

I sit and hold and weave

these strands back through.

Though nought to taut I sew

else bends will tear and throw

and gone to the rain and waves

and wind I go.

For a bond formed of glue and cling

holds as well as anything until,

a shear is pressed upon thee.

And a bond of knot and cord and sew

though loose compared to glue prior

bends and pulls and prods and holds

forever.

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