Old Faithful Till... Poem by Ima Ryma

Old Faithful, the geyser of fame.
I am watching it spew on high,
Right on time as befits its name,
In Yellowstone Park. That's where I
Am bonding with nature's fireplace,
Where colors and waters and rock
Make marvels of sensual space,
Entertaining all round the clock.
But, below are forces that churn,
And will blow up, some experts say,
Sending forth fiery ash to burn
Much of the hemisphere one day.

As I am pondering a quake.
The ground beneath begins to shake.