When The North Wind Does Blow . . .
You listen to the wind,
How it howls and rumbles round the house.
Wild and savage.
It whines and moans,
Wheedles its way through nooks and crannies,
Rattling doors and windows,
Lashing trees and tossing branches,
Blowing leaves into a flurry.
Look out of the window blurred with sheets of rain,
Sluicing down like a river.
Step out and it whips your hair into a frenzy.
Loud and elemental, exciting and scary,
Chasing black clouds swiftly across the sky.
You close your ears to its fury.
But sleep is impossible.
'Til it blows itself out.
Then you notice the quiet.
The storm has passed.
You breathe a sigh of relief.
Close your eyes,
last . . .