To say I'm all wet,
Would be a lie.
Sky ceiling low,
And river high.
Not a dry spot to be found,
Though I've searched and searched.
Looking for shelter from the dread,
For a dry place to lay my head.
Soaked flour and soggy bread,
Gloppy, gooey, mildewed, dead.
Slimy, slippery, yucky too,
Tonight, there'll be no hot food for you.
Slush and slosh, too soft ground,
Mud and pestilence, all around.
Water in everything, everywhere,
But not a drop to drink.
Slimy, putrid, foul, and stink.
Do not wade, and do not drink.
Water, wash these sins away.
Filthy water go away.
Come, a sunny day.
Copyright 1998 © Ronald W. Hull