Mr.Tornado (Ii) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

Mr.Tornado,
Where do you come from, sir,
As when come you,
The tin roofs of the poor start shaking they violently,
Somewhere the roofs blown off,
The trees lie they fallen,
Swaying and swaying,
Shaking and shaking and plucking them violently
As such the force of yours,
The motion of the wind,
Wild, tameless, swift and proud
And poor man helpless before you all?

Sorry sir, confused I with Mr.Tycoon
But you Mr.Typhoon,
Not a millionaire or billionaire
But Mr. Danger
With the French-cut beards
You coming and passing away
Just like a whirlwind,
The cyclonic storm of a great velocity,
But instead of bringing relief
From hot and humid conditions and moisture
You distorting it all,
So mighty in your prowess
As stand we miserably before.

From my house fearfully I can see
The roofs rattling,
The winds swaying,
The trees shaking violently
To be uprooted badly
Or the branches blown away,
The coconut trees rustling by,
Turning and twisting
With the thunder showers carried along.