occoquan1's Diaryland Diary

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Early a.m. and the Witch still moves about, familiars at his feet

Oceans of rain poured from the sky,
The wind whipped like a banshee's cry,
Green and blue were the songs of the rain,
Water of sky eased my pain.

It was glorious...the gathering of the darkening clouds...the slashes of lightning cutting swaths across the black sky, the torrential rain, like a wall of water, hard, heavy, demanding.

The grateful ground drank it up...it was like a wet kiss from heaven.

And now, the sickle of the moon, shrouded in haze like a ghost rises to light the night. Just beautiful.

Back later...

and until I can get it reposted, please read yesterday's entry about the evil bloodsucking pedophile roaming the hallowed cyberhalls of Diaryland. It comes from a source I completely trust. Love, Salem

1:28 a.m. - 07-28-05

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