Noone At The Control Switch

Often wonder
Who is really
In charge of the weather
Upstairs.

It is really
An old man snoring
While his kids are
Let alone to play
Among the weather controls?

Moving from
Control to control panel
When they get bore
How else does one explain
Why tornado are formed?

Or a bowling alley
Where the game is
Taken to extreme levels
Between the sexes
For cosmic bragging rights.

After every strike
Made by the men
The women would flash
Themselves
Hence the lightening.

While the men respond
With a deep laughter
Which we mortals
Hears as thunderclaps.

Neither side
Able to distract 
The other
Stopping
Only when exhausted
Ready to do battle
Another day.

Either way
Any mortal could do
A better job
Than the current crew
Upstairs.

Reviews

[Midnight_Mystery]

Great write! Loved it :)

[Jūdan FyreHeart]

Nothing quite like the damned weather messing around. I love the images of the kids playing =D