Poetry

---

It came,the sky itself could claim,the clouds of mist that seems
to drift,or hover over quarry's plain,street light flickers until
Man in harness with iron clad feet;climbed the pitch pined pole,
inching up until He had reached the spot to change the faulty
bulb,its life had not;with a newer one that spread its light over quarries space,now the lane's have shared lighted grace,no more
darkened place,a hearty cheer for the bringer of new light as he
deceds to the ground,this brave Man who gave us light,lit up quarry's place;lane's now bright through,the night,where cloudy skies ,street light replies,the darkened night abides,all else
besides.
Joe.

---

PLEASE ENCOURAGE AUTHOR BELOW LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE