A Helping Hand, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Como Mountains

A Helping Hand

Gory giants are rising from the sea
Is it their sole desire to devour me
Their grizzly actions I don’t comprehend
What so foolish did I do to offend

Is there any hope if they come ashore
I but a measly speck will be no more
For as King David I could never act
To push these Goliaths steadily back

As a coward I hide behind a tree
Prostrate praying that me they do not see
Their mighty roaring rumble do I feel
The deadly rattle of their swords of steel

As I shuttered my eyes all went quiet
Wondering if this is a mere respite
Do I dare to stand tall on my two feet
With no understanding what I may greet

Felt the gently warmth of the morning sun
With its intervention the battle won
Was it but a dream I will never know
But stretching, smiled, as I bask in its glow