Four Calling Birds A-Leaping

A sunny southern California day in East Dewalt,
a tiny town that lies along the San Andreas Fault.
The neighbors on this Saturday were tending to their chores;
and I was filling walkway cracks, a-working on all fours.

A car pulled up along the curb and I tossed it a glance;
(I felt a little self-conscious with caulking on my pants.)
Four well-dressed people then emerged--two women and two men;
(Occurrences that rub you wrong come calling now and then.)

They were Jehovah’s Witnesses and they set sights on me;
I became piqued but then I thought of the Beatles’, Let it Be.
Four smiles strolled right up to me and introduced themselves;
(in truth I would have preferred Santa Claus and his dear elves.)

But then I thought, I’ll feed these birds in graciousness and truth;
(the garden hose was all hooked up but would have been uncouth.)
Inside we went into the living room where we sat down;
I readied for a grand display of proselytize surround.

As they began their rehearsed spiel of Ali-Baba blow,
there came a grand cacophony of rumble from below.
The room began to shake and pictures fell, plus knickknacks too;
it was another earthquake--in Dewalt we just make due.

(Oh how in life the natural displays itself in might!
  and sometimes serendipity displays itself just right.
  Four birds came calling on that day and I felt somewhat out;
  yet with quake magnitude of four, I almost had to shout.)

Because the staid of witnesses, the calm composed extant,
transformed level-headedness into the edge of slant.
An, Oh my Lord! My God! O Jesus please! oft in repeats,
as four birds for Jehovah leapt with verve from comfy seats.

The wounds of fear with aching cries escaped from witness’ lungs;
then sound surround became the gibberish of unknown tongues.
Eight arms and legs were flailing as the earthquake spoke its peace;
(perhaps old Mother Nature has a stake in Heaven’s lease.)

(I can’t be sure among the shaking of the house and all,
  but I believe I heard one witness give Satan a call.
  To me it seemed to be in blame--the “evil” of the quake;
  I checked the witness later to discern if wide awake.)

A living room so littered with debris in randomness;
four witnesses left shaken and disheveled, more or less.
I wished them well and waved goodbye as they inched down the walk,
then returned to my filling, happy I had ample caulk.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
12-14-15