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Nature's Wrath
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Fun Poems The Druid patrols her forest domain.
Noticing the forest is in need of rain,
She looks to the sky and waves a hand:
Rain falls down to feed the land.
Pleased with her work, she continues on,
Nodding to a doe and her faun.
She looks down sadly at a dying flower,
Then makes it grow with her divine power.
The Druid looks for her friend, the bear,
And a pleasant conversation they share.
By now, the forest has had enough rain;
At her command, the sun appears again.
She hears a wolf howl far away
And heads off toward the distant bay.
She is hungry, and needs a snack,
So she shape-shifts to wolf, and hunts with the pack
Suddenly, a CRACK! and a wolf falls dead,
Blood oozing from a hole in its head.
The Druid changes into a tree;
The murderous person she waits to see.
A man emerges, a smile on his face;
A disgusting member of the human race.
The Druid thinks up a plan for revenge;
The forest’s children she must avenge.
She then sheds her wooden disguise,
Grinning at the thought of the man’s demise.
“You,” she said, “a life have taken.
The forest’s balance has been shaken.”
The killer looks up in fearful surprise,
Meeting her cold, unforgiving eyes.
“Who are you?” he asks, “Why did you me scare?”
The Druid just gives her icy glare.
She points at the man, and to slits her eyes narrow.
The air turns cold, chilling him to the marrow.
A freezing wind begins to blow,
Filled with driving sleet and snow.
Then the man is pelted with hail,
His cries are lost in the whistling gale.
The Druid raises her arms to the sky
And the air resonates with her wild cry.
They sun is put out by an ominous black cloud.
The man is deafened by thunder, loud.
The Druid flies into the air and looks down at the man;
He pleads for his life, as best he can.
Nature’s Guardian points at the top of his head,
Then lighting shoots down and strikes him dead.
The Druid floats back down to the ground,
Into the forest and serenity profound.
The sun comes back out, the wind drops,
Into the clearing, a rabbit hops.
At the Druid’s feet lies the man’s scorched body.
She doesn’t feel the least bit sorry.
Her philosophy is “A Life for a Life,”
Otherwise the balance would go into strife.
She leaves the clearing and goes on her way;
She has much work to do today.
The man lies dead like a crumpled dishcloth,
The latest victim of Nature’s wrath.
