Eruption

'Twas a bright and sunny morning
Not a cloud was overhead,
Save the great, engulfing shadow
Of the rock they thought was dead.
Watching o'er them, strong and silent,
Like their guardian, their friend.
They knew nothing of its danger
Of the way the day would end.

From the distance came a rumbling,
Hot and heavy was the air,
When the beast within the mountain
Came creeping from its lair.
Gaining speed as down it thundered,
Casting rocks from where they lay,
Boiling, bubbling, filled with evil,
Pouring down upon its prey.

At last the rock was still.
Survivors clambered to their dead,
And pulled each battered body
From it's makeshift lava bed.
With heavy hearts they worked as one,
Their loved ones to exhume.
And the mountain cast its shadow
O'er its fiery, disgorged tomb.

Corinne Nicol