Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                Flight of the Lawn Chairs

                                The Lion-Winds of March

Wild winds now rise to a Valkyrie’s strength
And dark clouds roar to the hammer of Thor
While lightning traverses the poor earth’s length
As if our Nordic gods have gone to war

As if our Nordic gods have gone to war
The walls and windows rattle against the rain
Foul enemies batter against the door
The wrath of Grendel, the hatred of Cain

The wrath of Grendel, the hatred of Cain
Have set my old lawn chairs to flying again!