Water sprites whisk over the lawn's wrinkled brow
Sprinkler streams stand straight and bend back, bowing
to a greater power.
God of the wind, whirl me up. Sweep me
clean to Thee.
A sun storm of light and fury, strong enough to bleach bones touches twister-like before me.
Bluebirds flash glass and fire, jeweled jets burning
trails of air.
God of light that blinds, blaze and shine
so I may see.
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Polonius: What do you read, my lord? Hamlet: Words, words, words
