The Flying House of the Supreme Lord

1

The day was darkening into night,

The house was filled with guttering light.

The wind, it blew, it howled with rage,

To be released from out its cage.

2

The house, it shuddered as we shook,

And chill things crept through every nook.

The icy fingers of our fears

Drank longingly our frozen tears.

3

In shadow show, we standing still,

To bend the nighttime to our will.

The sandy turf blew in the gale,

To paint the windows with its tale.

4

The rafters rocked, they ached and groaned,

The boards, they shuddered as they moaned.

The shingles shook, the rooster spun,

And lightning cracked just like a gun.

5

When out the roaring, raging storm,

We saw his form! Oh! Dreadful form,

Emerge from shadow like a wraith,

"To ride the beast!" or so he saith.

6

He climbed atop the shaking roof,

Went up the trellis, hoof by hoof,

And stood upon the apex of

The house when God gave it a shove.

7

And off it flew, he rode the storm,

And drove the house from dusk till morn.

Just like a ship asail the sea,

It was just a nighttime fantasy.

8

And Supreme Lord, we call him still,

Who climbed in o'er the window sill,

And nestled in to spend the night,

Remembering his house of flight.

My book: Fifty Famous Fables and Folk Tales, Collected From Around the World

Websites

Facebook