Mini explosives
Celebrating fun events
Dogs are terrified

Tremors all around
Huge cracks open everywhere
Landscapes change again

Flower stalk in beak
Bird of love and bird of peace
A world wide symbol

Right across the sky
Awesome electric sparklers
Don't stand under trees

Pretty clouds up high
So soft and white and fluffy
Birds are still flying

So sad will be the days
when people don’t write letters
with pen and paper anymore

The beauty of hand-written words
and uniqueness of style in script
will be eroded to the core

The warmth and human closeness
of letters scripted by the hand
will slowly cease to exist

For they will be replaced
by the uncaring coldness
of set types of the computing beast

He was perched high up in the air,
Sitting on an antenna there,
Amidst a soothing summer's breeze,
Distant from future winter's freeze;

He was cleaning himself calmly,
With half-spread wings uncaringly,
Then smoothing all his feathers down,
Looked around with a birdie frown;

I wondered what his thoughts were,
Was he scanning the scene for her?
Outlined he was in bright sunlight,
And then - he flew away from sight.