This poem was written and dedicated to all those involved with Hurricane Katrina and Rita.

The Morning Of A Hurricane

New Orleans, the city of party timesNow can you see?
The hands of the Lord
Telling us the violence needed to cease
Or the road we travel will be hard
On the morning of a hurricane

Magnolia trees swaying in the wind
The grounds that was once covered with grass
Now cover with Katrina’s tears
Leaving behind a difficulty task
For a city that scream in fear
Because nothing look as it once had been
On the morning of a hurricane

When the sun set and night falls, Bourbon Street had no bright lights
No dancing in the street
Just the will to save someone’s life
As our prayers around God’s throne meets
On the morning g of a hurricane

If you look upon New Orleans’ streets
Where houses, churches, playground and businesses stood
All you will see is rivers at your feet
For our government must have misunderstood
On the morning of a hurricane

Many souls are laid to rest
Wrapped in the arms of a hurricane
Suddenly stands still
Quiet, torn as Katrina took what was your and mines
But our spirit was not killed
On the morning of a hurricane


Now survivors needs to rebuild and to their best
Because one morning likes a rushing mighty wind Katrina came
And put us all to shame
On the morning of a hurricane

Author: Joanne Stampley
Copyright © 2005